


The DD Murder Case

by K (Thiswasmydesign)



Series: Another path [4]
Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga), Death Note (Movies), Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Beyond has issues, Beyond has super major issues, But at least he's working out where his personal line is now, Control Issues, Developing Relationship, Disney Movies, Disney References, Disney Songs, Disney World & Disneyland, Everyone Has Issues, Gen, Kira the attack dog, L has issues, L is still a bit morally grey, L isn't used to feels, Light is still Kira, M/M, Mello has issues, Murder, Murder Mystery, Near has issues, but they're working on it, detective war, uncertain degree of Death Note influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-18 17:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 73,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13686252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thiswasmydesign/pseuds/K
Summary: L and Light have solved their first case. Near has left the team, hurt when L would not declare N to be his successor at the conclusion of the arsonist case. Mello, hoping to bring the thirteen-year-old back, has also returned to Wammy’s house. L and Light travel to America, chasing a killer who targets people dressed as characters from children’s films – killing them in their costumes.However, the investigation does not move forwards as quickly as they had hoped, and soon problems begin to emerge out of the woodwork. With Light back in possession of the Death Note, the gentler Light that had been created out of need to get L to trust him is being overtaken by Kira again, and challenges emerge from unexpected directions.





	1. Donald Duck

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone joining us now – thank you for reading! Whilst it is possible to pick up what is happening as you go along, this is the third in a series (fourth if you include the short drabble interlude that is part 3) I would recommend going back to the start of the series or at least to The Arsonist (part 2 of the series), which explains a lot of things that will not be revisited here and ends exactly as this story begins. However, I will attempt to put enough reminder information into this story that it should make sense on its own, if you really don’t want to go back and read in order.
> 
> I'm actually going to up the rating on this one to E for (albeit mild) lemon now written in a later chapter; however, if you want to read without anything E rated you are safe for a while yet.

The air-conditioned villa in the tourist region of Orlando was inconspicuous as a base of operations, but not L’s usual choice. Large glass doors out to a swimming pool allowed the sun to glare off his computer screens, making him locate himself in the darkest corner of the room whilst Light-Kira would move around freely, the addition of one other person in the building inadequate to fill the rest of the empty space.

L had thought it might be nice to work in the relative peace and quiet, the number of living bodies in the house more than halved since they came to America, but instead the silence was distracting, unsettling. He filled the emptiness with candies and strawberry cake, occupying his hands and fuelling his mind.

Light-Kira would speak with him frequently at first after their arrival about every topic he could find. However, locked away with no company to speak of, their conversations soon turned to criminal cases; the files that they worked through and completed stacking up more quickly than the police could request their help; increasingly Light was taking on cases that were beneath their remit, giving the police agencies tips on how to catch the criminals.

Since Kira had all but stopped killing when Light was imprisoned three months ago there had been a resurgence of crime, particularly crimes of the very worst kinds; murders and rapes. More cases than ever were coming through to them that met the red criteria; once solved these cases would sit aside, the police guided to find evidence but more often than not unable to prove the theory to a court room. L had noticed how Light had been handling the Notebook more, watching him carefully when there were crimes reported on the television or when working with the case files.

They had come to America for one reason only; the crimes colloquially termed the DD murders, also referred to by the media as the Donald Duck murders after the first victim was a Disney costume performer dressed as the cartoon character.

There had been five murders so far; three men and two women. They were killed in three-day intervals at the Disney parks, all costume performers, all in their outfits at the time.

However, since L and Light had arrived in the Sunshine State, no further murders had occurred. It was almost as if the killer knew that they were there.

Both men were restless, irritable, and in need of a good case to occupy their minds. They had very little information to go on from the police who had investigated the first five murders.

Light, trying to break his boredom, had summarised the case into a large-scale mind map on one wall, and he reviewed the information frequently, looking for clues or a route to find more information.

Donald Duck, the first murder, also known as Scott Hall, had occurred without suspicion until the post mortem. The loss of vital evidence on this first, clumsiest killing was a devastating blow to the investigation. Scott had been killed with a fine stab wound; he had bled from his liver into his abdomen and died of this blood loss. The blood pooled in his abdomen, and the police missed it, attributing the pooled blood under the skin as lividity and the distension of the abdomen as simply the victim being centrally obese. Of course, it was easier to miss when the officers had allowed the body to be removed from the scene without full medical examination and the Donald Duck costume to remain in place until it was taken to the medical examiner’s office.

Unfortunately for them and for poor Eeyore – a twenty-six-year-old by the real name of Mercedes Reid, the medical examiner took several days to complete and report on their examination. The stabbing was missed until the second victim had died three days later. Ms Reed was stabbed higher, straight through the heart. The wound was fine and clean, the blood pooling in the chest cavity and she would have died of pressure on the heart from a massive haemothorax; every breath suffocating her steadily to her death.

Three days later, the police finally made a connection and began to investigate the deaths in detail when a young woman dressed in the costume of the Beast, from Beauty and the Beast, was stabbed in exactly the same way. With both the deaths occurring in Magic Kingdom, the police were baffled that the murderer would be so bold as to return to the scene of his or her crime so soon. They began to search for evidence, pulling records of the fingerprints from everyone in the park on both days. The security measures at the entrance to the parks made this simple for them, where all tickets were associated with a fingerprint in the computer system to ensure that they were not sold on or shared, but filtering the plethora of information they received was more difficult. Many thousands of people visited the park on any given day and many hundreds of these were the same people on both days; not to mention those who could have bought day tickets rather than weekly or monthly passes, so that they would be able to use a different finger – and a different fingerprint – at each visit.

Both deaths had occurred behind the scenes, where security cameras were not as frequently present. Nothing was picked up at the entrances and exits, no one entering or leaving where they did not belong.

Three days later the killer struck again. Tramp, aka Dwight Castillo, died without ceremony beneath the stage shortly before he was due to be raised to perform his act.

Throughout the parks, an armed police presence sprang up and none of the costumed characters were allowed to go anywhere in costume without a guard. The routes in and out of back-stage locations were guarded with officers around the clock, the performers escorted to and from their performances after a check on their identifications.

Three days later at Epcot, Hades aka Calvin Powell died anyway, collapsing minutes into a villain’s parade at the park.

There was no forensic evidence; nothing caught on camera; hundreds of suspects both named and unnamed; nothing, really, for them to go on.

The five deaths over just beyond a fortnight had hit the news media worldwide; Light suspected this was due to novelty value of the attacks. The conspiracy theorists were adamant that this was Disney’s way of drawing attention to its parks, since Japan had gained an increase in tourists once the Kira case was solved. People were drawn to a mystery. Others postulated that Kira was to blame for the deaths, since they were so neat and it seemed perfectly done. This theory spurred Light on; he had to solve the case to stop this fool ruining Kira’s good name.

There was nothing they could do, yet. There were no leads, not enough evidence. L insisted the case did not meet his criteria anyway, and continued to ask Watari to bring them new cases, continued to give the impression that the solution to the Donald Duck murder case would somehow just fall into their lap.

As they ran out of things they were interested in discussing beyond the remit of the case, Light became increasingly angry at L and L withdrew further into this digital investigation, spending hours on end in his crouch in his computer chair or eating his sugary treats.

On the second day since their arrival in America, Light set the Death Note down beside the bed as they went to sleep, curling up facing the book rather than L, and did not so much as bid him goodnight.

By the third day, Light did not wait for L to wake before going for a morning swim in the pool.

On the fourth day since they came to the USA, L refused to come to bed, and Light did not pressure him to do so.

On the sixth day, Light’s first task of the morning was to utilise the Death Note to rid the world of another dangerous and incurable criminal. He searched through the red cases like he was reading a gourmet menu, selecting the very worst of the villains and savouring the sensation of writing the name in the Note, the relief it brought as the tension left him. Ryuk’s laughter was disconcerting and dark as he observed the changes in the young man with amusement.

“Kira,” L interrupted softly as Light continued to hold his pen over the Note page, poised and ready for use.

“What, L?”

“One name,” the detective reminded warily, wide eyes unblinking and showing his concern.

“If we stick with one name per week, several of these criminals will kill again before I can stop them,” Light argued, looking up to L with blood red eyes that appeared to return to the usual brown if L focused on them too clearly. “One isn’t enough to make a difference, it won’t ever be enough.”

“It has to be,” L instructed. “For now. I am trusting you with this. Please, do not betray that trust.”

“Are you going to give me a percentage, L?”

L was quite confident that the Light he had known in Scotland was deeply buried now beneath Kira. The two were one and the same and yet, so very different; L had begun to think of them as two separate entities. The Light he had known in Scotland was willing to acknowledge and feel emotions, affection – willing to yield and bend. Kira did not care about these things; did not care about him. Kira was God in his own mind and he thought of L as beneath him. If he chose to take up the Notebook now and start writing, L would have to find a way to stop him, and he was not sure that this version of Light-Kira would be so easily stilled by an electric shock from the handcuff.

L hesitated to give an answer, the red eyes reminding him unsettlingly of another friend and killer he had to face in America years before, stalling his thoughts.

If he was honest, and admitted how little he trusted Kira at that moment, would the man who thought he was a God laugh at him and prove him right? He still did not have L’s name – L would find a way to stop him eventually, if the worst were to happen. If the Light he knew was still in there somewhere, would he recoil from L’s mistrust and break through the mask of Kira, take control and stop this?

Should he lie, and if he did, would Kira know?

“Seventeen percent, Light-Kira,” L compromised, bringing the number up from seven.

Kira’s lips curled into a satisfied, sinister grin and he continued to hold the detective’s eyes. “So confident, detective?”

L should have known not to lie; of course, Kira would see through it. He could not help but feel his judgement was impaired around the younger man; emotional responses reduced his deductive abilities almost as much as his crouched posture and the sugar improved them.

How had things gone wrong so quickly?

L had given Light the Death Note back only a week ago, trusting him to follow the rules that had been set a month previously. The Light he had given the book back to had been open, even affectionate. He had been firmly on L’s side, even engaging in minor gestures of physical affection on an easy and casual basis. He had still been Kira, beneath the surface, but contained and controlled.

Could it really be that the Light who L had begun to learn was so drastically a product of the Note’s influence?

He had known there was a risk in giving Light back the Note. The book wanted to be used, and L had deduced that Light’s affection was caused, at least in part, by the book drawing him closer to L so that L would be prepared to let him use the murder weapon more frequently. He had known that giving Light the notebook would reduce the affection, perhaps even remove it entirely, but he had not expected such a rapid return of the darkest side of Kira that had always been there, a volcano bubbling beneath the quiet waters at the surface of an ocean.

It was possible that his own judgement in the matter had been affected, too. He had his own notebook at the time, one that belonging to the Shinigami Rem, and had fallen himself to the temptation of using it on three occasions. His notebook would have drawn him to Kira; encouraging him to indulge the younger man’s homicidal tendencies.

He did not hold that notebook now, having returned it to Rem, and only remembered it at all thanks to the young man before him, who had designed the bracelets he wore on both wrists and the ring on his finger, each securely holding small pieces of notebook paper to his skin at all times. So, it made little sense why Light was so drastically affected by having regained the notebook, and yet L continued to be so strongly affected by him.

Beneath the mask he wore for cases – and interacting with serial killers – L’s heart raced and his mind was blunted as if by white noise; he had to maintain his breathing at a regular rate and his other physiological functions under similar conscious control. With Kira watching him with those blood red eyes, awaiting an answer that would either stop him killing for now, or set him to writing name after name on the pages before him, L should have been calm and rational, his mind whirling through calculations and percentages, plotting ways to stop him and retrieve the notebook. Instead, his memories flashed back to a night two weeks ago when he had been trying to work and Light - not Kira then - had lost his temper, pinning him to the bed and tying him there so that he would have no choice but to sleep.

This was a problem, and not one L had faced before.

He wondered if he would be able to contact Mello; the boy understood emotion and irrational wants in a way that had always escaped the rest of the team.

All of these thoughts crossed L’s mind in the space of a handful of seconds, but did not provide him with the correct answer to Kira’s question.

“No,” he found himself admitting his lie. Kira’s grin widened, his perfect posture breaking to lean back into the chair, lounging in an enticing manner that reminded L of Mello. The detective wondered if that meant Kira could see how he was affecting him; surely, not even he was so perceptive as that. His mask was perfect, as clear as Near’s.

Kira lazily turned pages of the notebook in his lap, evidently revelling in the power he had to control the situation, to force L to watch as he taunted him with his actions. Any second now he could click that pen and begin writing, and L would have to stop him. The detective reached subtly into his pocket and pinched the button for the shock cuff, dialling it up to a stronger setting than had been used previously and prepared to use it if he had to.

“Would you like to try again?” Kira asked him after the silent observation and L’s tension became boring.

“It was seven percent,” L offered. Four, now, and decreasing with every moment Kira remained as the dominant personality.

“Still generous,” Kira told him, clicking the lid of the pen. L’s grip on the button tightened, ready.

The phone began to ring – loudly, obnoxiously, and quite clearly altered by a certain blonde teenager before he left for Wammy’s.

“What _is_ that?” Light demanded, jolting upright, disgust chasing the danger from his eyes. L breathed freely again, snapped out of his trance-like state. Laughter overcame him with the relief of tension, and he let the phone ring as long as he could to make Light suffer the ring tone for as long as he dared. A petty and childish punishment, but it _did_ make him feel a little better.

“That,” L told him, preparing to answer the phone, “is called crazy frog, and I believe the caller must be… Yes, hello Mello.”

Ryuk’s laughter continued from L’s and he moved from where he had been hovering close to Light to sit on the arm of L’s chair, hitting the loudspeaker button on the phone before L had the chance to move it away from his ear.

“… has been gone for five days, and Roger has gone with him,” it was not difficult to deduce that Mello was talking about Near. “He has left a message to tell me not to follow. I will come join you in America shortly, once the mess is cleaned up.”

“What mess?” Light asked curiously.

“I… may have been a bit upset when I found Near’s letter,” Mello admitted guiltily. “I did phone you as soon as I snapped out of it.”

“And when did you find the letter?” L checked.

“… about three hours after Near left.”

Ryuk laughed while L’s panda eyes widened.

“Four and a half days? Are any of the buildings still standing?”

“Well… mostly…”

“Mello,” L scolded seriously. “How bad is the damage?”

“Hold on,” Mello was silent for a few seconds and then L’s phone showed notification of a picture message; the images contained within showed the inside of various buildings, scorched and windows blown out. One building with the appearance of a chemistry lab was without a roof. Ryuk looked over L’s shoulder at the images.

“My little Norfolk Royal, you’ve been having fun without me!” the Shinigami protested.

“I’m sorry, Ryuk, I didn’t intend to,” Mello did sound apologetic at least. “L, I promise I will find a way to pay for the damage.”

“That’s very mature of you,” L approved. “Since Near isn’t there, you can start by packing… whatever you have left, and getting on the next possible flight to Florida. Watari will deal with the repairs. I will send you the details.”

“Thank you, L.”

L hung up the phone, setting it down beside him on the arm of the chair, his attention refocusing on Light.

The Notebook remained on his knee; not open any more, but ever present and threatening. Had the phone not begun to ring L had no doubt that Kira would have started to write and forced his hand. Mello truly had impeccable timing; L wondered whether there was any way Ryuk could have influenced the timing of the boy’s call; a rather irrational suspicion – he would only give it 0.3%. The Shinigami was rewarding himself with an apple from the fruit bowl if so.

L studied Light’s face. The red shine of his eyes was gone now, the danger passed. So, it was possible to snap the hold of the Notebook given a proper interruption. That was something he could test, if he had to. He wondered what would work? The ideas began to spin around in his mind, each with their own likelihood of working calculated as a neat percentage. He had to stop as the percentages began to become increasingly difficult to calculate, as the ideas began to turn to indecent considerations.

“Back to seventy one percent,” L told Light reasonably. “Perhaps Light-Kira would like coffee?”

“If you would,” Light requested, setting the notebook down on the table and taking up their main case file for another look now that his mind was clear from using the notebook. The darker part of him enjoyed the idea of L making the coffee and waiting on him; it was usually the other way around. The balance of power was shifting.

“The kettle’s just over there,” L gestured vaguely to the kitchen. Light scowled at the detective; perhaps that balance hadn’t moved so far after all. “Sixteen sugars today for me.”

L considered as Light closed the case file and readily moved to make their drinks, almost all suggestion of Kira gone – hidden again, the monster beneath the surface. He had to do something; he had to fix this, before Light could fall too far to for him to retrieve.

When Light brought him his coffee, L pulled him in for a kiss. Light didn’t resist, but didn’t respond with any enthusiasm either. This was no good; it seemed affection would no longer bind and chain Kira.

He would have to keep him occupied in some other way. What they needed – desperately – was movement in the case. A single hint, a single piece of evidence, that was all it would take and he could let Kira loose to follow the tracks to the murderer.

L tapped at his computer for a few moments, purchasing tickets for the journey and forwarding them to his successor; Mello would arrive before nightfall. Perhaps another presence in the house would help as a distraction?

L considered the notebook on the table. The simplest solution would be to lock it away again, to return the chain that had connected him to Light and to restore the notebook – created Stockholm syndrome. It was cold, logical… and exactly what he would have done, he thought, if this had been anyone other than Light Yagami.

He really needed to speak to Mello. He could not allow his emotions to so easily overrule his head.


	2. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mello returns; the team make the first step towards solving the case.

“Honey, I’m home!” Mello shouted as he raced into the villa, throwing down his bags in the doorway and running at Ryuk, who caught the boy as he leapt into the Shinigami’s arms and spun him around in mid air to throw him headlong into the water of the swimming pool.

“Akane!” Ryuk dive-bombed into the pool after him, his wings creating a wave of water that splashed over Mello’s head as he surfaced.

L looked up impassively from his computers, studying the pair’s interaction silently. It was Light that followed them out to the pool, taking towels with him when he did.

“Welcome back,” he greeted the boy with a smile.

Mello, whose face had been burned during their last case, was looking better than when Light had last seen him. The burns were less angry, less red, the peeling skin starting to settle now beneath the clear film of the Wammy’s silicon-based wound spray. His clothes were plastered to his skin by the water, showing that he had potentially lost a little weight in the week that he had been away; Light wondered if he had been eating whilst he had been on his rampage. The boy’s usual diet revolved around chocolate, and suddenly stopping eating if his metabolism was rapid enough to keep him thin after eating nearly seven thousand calories worth of chocolate per day would definitely have an effect.

“Kira,” Mello beamed at him, “killed anyone recently?”

Only Mello would consider that an appropriate greeting to anyone, not least a serial killer. However, he was Mello, and Light had already begun to get used to the bold teen.

“No one who didn’t deserve it,” he answered honestly.

“Want to come for a swim?” Mello splashed water at him from the pool; Light was just far enough away that the water couldn’t reach.

“I’m guessing no isn’t an answer?” he reasoned, not waiting for a response before removing and neatly folding his shirt, laying it on the table out of reach of the water. He followed the same pattern with his trousers, revealing that he was already wearing swimming shorts; he had thought Mello would probably want to take advantage of the swimming pool, perhaps even push him into it when he arrived.

Light bit back a yell as Ryuk lifted him bodily from the floor and dropped him into the deep end of the pool. He came to the surface, managing to breathe without spluttering before Mello could splash him.

A trio of water guns landed in the water beside them. Light looked round, surprised to see L stood beside the pool, his hands in his pockets and shifting awkwardly. The detective was averting his eyes from Light, looking at the unoccupied water around him. Mello giggled girlishly at the sight. As L turned and moved into a perch on one of the poolside chairs, Mello filled the water gun and fired a stream at L. The detective swiftly blocked it with the sole of a bare foot, managing to maintain his perch despite balancing on only one leg.

“Join us,” Mello pleaded with L as Light and Ryuk both filled their guns with water.

“I will observe,” L refused, though Light continued to notice that L wasn’t doing much observing, still avoiding looking at him. He had left his bowl of sweets inside, hands filled with the water guns, but seemed not to realise. How odd.

Light took advantage of Mello’s gun being otherwise focused to fire his own at the teen, ducking under the surface of the pool when Ryuk and Mello teamed up against him a moment later.

L watched as the three fought, taking the opportunity to consider the problem of Light-Kira.

It was easy to consider the two parts of Light as separate; Kira the psychopath, the murderer and Light the affectionate, sociable and friendly person currently playing childishly in a swimming pool. That separation was one L was reluctant to make, and he was even more uncertain whether he should consider either of them to be the real Light Yagami.

In the time he had known Light Yagami, he had always been influenced by the Notebook. Logically, the affectionate Light had been created as a result of L withholding the notebook; Kira, a creation of his addiction to the same. L had never known a Light unaffected by the Note; he could not be certain of any assumptions made as to who Light really would be without the book’s ongoing manipulation. It bothered him greatly, especially considering that his responses to the young man remained tainted by affection developed whilst Light had been the softer of his current personalities.

The rapid change in Light that day was more dramatic and marked than L had seen, and he could focus on the reasons behind that without feeling so uncomfortable with uncertainty.

It seemed highly unlikely, almost impossible, that simply settling Light’s boredom with the telephone call from Mello had been enough to shake loose the hold of Kira and the Notebook. It also appeared unlikely that the Light willing to let go of his carefully held dignified appearance and splash around in a pool with a teenager and Shinigami was a part of Kira’s mask.

It was entirely possible that with the Note back in his own possession, Light was more strongly affected by the withdrawal from his addiction. If L assumed that Kira was the product of the Note’s influence, the sociable Light playing in the swimming pool was the man beneath the monster; the real Light Yagami. It was a pleasant thought, but it contradicted what L knew of the Light that he had researched before he obtained a Death Note. If this were true, which seemed unlikely, removing the Note from Kira would be enough to regain control of the situation, but this would mean the Note could influence his affection again, and L had already decided he was uncomfortable with the induced Stockholm syndrome.

It was also possible that the change did not relate to the use of the Notebook, but to the change in Ryuk’s mood. The Shinigami had been much happier in every way since they heard from Mello; the Death Note connected Ryuk with Light, so it would make sense for Ryuk’s moods to influence Light-Kira’s through the Notebook. If this were true, Mello’s presence would stabilise Ryuk’s boredom and Light would remain, with his Kira personality held in the background.

Could it be that Light was just bored? The simplest explanation was usually the best, and Light had indeed had nothing to do over the last week. He could believe Light would make threats with the Notebook for his own amusement, to create a challenge – a game for him to play to alleviate his boredom. Would that really be enough to cause such a change in him so quickly?

L considered the three possibilities and narrowed them down to two; there was simply nothing to suggest that the Shinigami who owned the Notebook could in any direct way influence the owner. Either way, the actual answer was irrelevant and he was obstinately avoiding the more important question; where, on this spectrum from affectionate-Light to murderous-Kira, did the real Light Yagami exist? What target did L have to aim for in managing the balance between the pair?

After a while the water fight began to lose its steam, Mello and Light emerging from the pool, arguing about who was the victor in their water fight. Ryuk phased through the air, the water falling away from him and back into the pool, instantly dry, and left them to gather up chocolate for Mello. The boy followed him into the house to explore, leaving L and Light alone beside the pool.

Light perched on one of the sun loungers beside L, one of the towels wrapped around his waist as he focused on drying and fixing his flattened wet hair. L collected a towel as well, deciding that helping Light to dry his feet might work well to distract from the difficult conversation he was about to initiate.

“You don’t have to do that,” Light told him as L knelt on the floor at the end of the sun lounger, massaging the foot through the towel. L hummed, acknowledging, but did not answer, continuing to dry the foot.

“Light-Kira,” L finally spoke, keeping his eyes focused on his task even though he wanted to check the reaction to his chosen form of address. “This morning…”

Light reached down to still L’s hands on his foot and L could sense him glaring, but did not look up.

“Don’t,” Kira warned him. L caught a breath, bracing himself for more, but he did not continue.

“You are losing control, Light,” L spoke softly, calling out to the other side of him that was crushed beneath the influence of the Note.

“Since I stopped killing, the world has begun to rot again,” Kira snarled. He took a deep breath, his tone softening; Kira restrained for a moment. “You speak of my use of the Note like an addiction, and yet you lay the temptation out before me and expect me to resist. Every case we solve could be dealt with day by day, but you leave the files around me and tell me that I should not act. To watch the world burn.”

“I… have made a mistake,” L agreed, “I did not want you to get bored, to run out of cases to work on.”

“It’s not like you to make mistakes, L,” Light reasoned. L considered; at the time he had proposed the current way to manage the situation, he had been influenced by a Death Note himself; perhaps his own judgement had been impaired? “I will not watch mass murderers be allowed to kill again just because you tell me not to act.”

“I’m sorry,” L apologised. “I suppose it will not help if I take the files away?”

“No,” Light laughed, a hint of madness there. “I can see them, the faces, the names; they run round and round in my mind, slower since I used the Note today but they’re always there.”

“What would you have me do?” L asked, putting the decision into Light’s hands, but wary of the likelihood that Kira would try to use the same to gain an advantage if he could.

“I don’t know,” Light admitted, the words seeming to pain him.

“L?” Mello called from inside the house. The two men startled as Mello rushed out onto the patio, still dressed only in boxer shorts. “Could you two lovebirds stop for a minute and focus on the case? I think I’ve found something.”

L looked to Light, whose eyes lit up with curiosity.

“You’ve looked at what we’ve worked out so far?” Light asked the boy.

“Yes, and you haven’t got this written down anywhere… honestly, did you really need to write it all down? The spider’s web chart is a bit weird you know,” Mello teased, grasping Light’s wrist and dragging him inside, L following after him at a more reasonable pace. Light did not explain that he had felt the need to write; anything to keep his hands busy rather than writing names in the notebook. “Look at the victims.”

Light and L did so. Where L had made the deductions he could and then researched each victim, Light had taken this research and spent hours looking over and over again at his spider’s web, trying to spot something he hadn’t before. Whatever Mello was seeing, he wasn’t.

“What am I meant to be looking at?” he asked irritably.

“The costume names!” Mello waited several seconds. “The first letter of each makes a word…”

“D-E-B-T-H,” Light ran through the victims in order, frowning at Mello. He had seen it before, but it seemed so clumsy and imprecise. “Debt – H doesn’t make much sense.”

“Unless the message is unfinished,” L stipulated. “Something could have stopped the murderer from killing the next letter in the message…”

“And the killings stopped when we arrived in America,” Light continued seamlessly. “So, for it to be true that would mean the murderer knows that we are here…”

“…which seems unlikely, since the public are not aware that we have any interest in the case…” L reasoned

“…unless the killer is a police officer involved in sending us the file.”

“You’re getting better at that,” Mello chuckled at the shared deductive process. Light and L glanced at one another, somewhat surprised to have fallen back into that synchronicity so easily. “But it isn’t meant to say debt, and the gap isn’t because you’re investigating – you know, both of you are such narcissists! Not everything in the world happens because of you two.”

L huffed, Light’s eyes glazing red for a moment.

“It isn’t D-E-B-T-H, it’s D-E-A-T-H,” Mello spelled out. “The third victim was dressed as the beast from Beauty and the Beast, but the character’s proper name is Adam.”

“That would mean, if the killer is spelling out a message, the gap between killing is indicative of a gap between words,” L reasoned.

“You watched Disney at Wammy’s?” Light asked, wondering when in Mello’s rampage he would have had the opportunity to investigate the case. Mello shrugged.

“Near likes it,” he told them. “Puts it on in the background sometimes when he doesn’t have a case.”

“It’s possible,” Light considered Mello’s theory. “It’s the first lead we’ve had in days at any rate. If we can work out what the message is trying to say, we could work out what letter is next and guard the characters with that name, or stop those costumes being used on the correct day.”

“Death is hardly a specific message for a murderer,” L calculated possibilities but could barely narrow down which letter of the alphabet would be next. He considered N most strongly; if the message was meant to draw their attention, spelling Death Note would certainly be a convincing way to do so. He explained this to Light and Mello, suggesting that the police should be deployed to guard those whose characters began with N – at 10% it held the highest probability of all the letters to be next.

A few telephone calls and the police were arranged to be in position when the parks opened the next day; Mello suggesting that they each shadow a different character in person. L and Light resisted this, not happy to narrow down their view of the situation.

“You need to stay here, too,” L instructed Mello. “If you are to be L one day, you need to learn to utilise the rest of the team to your advantage. It is not usually possible to engage in field work for every case.”

Mello was quiet and reflective for a while as L and Light together arranged for the most relevant park CCTV feeds to the directed to the various computer screens from L’s work station. He would remain at the house and join the detectives in their part of the investigation, but the thought that Near belonged in that role and himself in the field haunted him. With Light and L distracted and ignorant of Mello’s sudden silence, Ryuk provided a box of chocolates (turned upside down over Mello’s head) to cheer him up. Mello started at the sudden chocolate rain, snatching an apple from the table and throwing it at Ryuk’s head. His aim was true and his arm quick enough that the Shinigami did not have time to phase out and let the apple fly through him, striking him right between the eyes.

“Stop it,” Light finally paid attention to the pair when the chair in which Mello was sitting was stained with chocolate ice cream, chocolate and apples scattered around the room. Mello grinned broadly at him, flicking ice cream at his face. It was something of a surprise when Light, instead of laughing or scolding him as expected, curled his lip into an uninhibited snarl. Ryuk moved swiftly, perched on the back of Mello’s chair, his wings arching, making him look larger and more threatening.

“Woah, relax a little Light,” Mello laughed, trying to break the tension in the room. He was not successful; Light’s eyes had taken on a red sheen, his fists clenched and white knuckled.

“Kira,” L watched from his chair, careful not to shift the balance; Light had to regain control himself.

Minutes passed, the tension very slowly leaving Light’s posture until he was finally able to look away, sweeping elegantly out of the living room and through to the bedroom he had been sharing with L.

 

* * *

 

It was late that night; perhaps technically early the next day, when L silently opened the door to their room and observed Light where he slept.

This was getting dangerous; the Kira side to Light was becoming less rational, far beyond anything L had expected from him. Resisting the temptation of the notebook had him on edge every second of the day; Kira was too close to the surface to ignore.

He needed an outlet, preferably one that would not involve killing more than the usual numbers of criminals that L had permitted. If L could not find one and Light continued to fight down the part of him that was Kira, he would be forced to remove the Death Note from Light’s possession, return to their previous arrangement. He could not risk Light losing the rest of himself to Kira.

L flicked open the notebook where it rested on Light’s bedside table, turning the pages silently with his long fingers and checking the names. Only one had been added since he last checked, the one from that morning; he closed the book, relieved.

They needed a break in the case; needed something to occupy them, to give them a goal to work towards. It was evident earlier that Light was capable of working together with him still, the joint deduction they had formulated had proved that.

He needed a challenge; needed something to fight against. Something to unite the two sides of his personality; Light needed the hunt, and Kira needed the kill.

L curled up on the bed beside the young man, wondering who he would be waking up to in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is growing. Seriously, I'm on chapter 18. I think it's going to end up being 20. And this morning I woke with a little plot bunny for something else; I will likely switch between which story I'm writing for a while since I'm so far ahead on this one. If anyone is interested, the new one won't be from the Another Path verse. It's going to be really quite dark; and Naomi/Beyond... a Hannibal (TV) AU. I might even get the first chapter up today, to see if anyone is interested. I haven't found anything else like it out there in ao3 - world, so it might be something a bit new I hope.


	3. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near has issues too.  
> I should probably do a fancier chapter summary, huh?

Ten percent was not enough.

He had to make a judgement call, had to distribute the limited resources of a stretched police force to protect the most likely victims possible at short notice. He had not mobilised all of his connections to attain more investigators, would not be able to do so until this case met his usual criteria of ten dead. He had to pick the letter N, the most likely option – even if Mello pointed out that the reason he considered it the most likely was entirely narcissistic.

The character that died was not an N. It wasn’t even a costumed character; not really. Tarzan only wore a loincloth after all.

Mello had torn the couch to smaller and smaller pieces when the message came through to them as the body was found; Ryuk helped, sharp claws making easy work of the tougher materials. L had remained rational, calculations spinning, while Light had removed himself from their company and shut himself away again.

In the midst of attempting to give orders, L’s computer screens turned black, and then lit with a single letter.

“Near,” L greeted as emotionlessly as he could, masking his surprise.

“L,” Near’s effortlessly emotionless voice was masked through a voice filter but still sounded childlike.

“Near!” Mello shrieked at the screens, his loud volume also drawing Light out of the bedroom to observe the conversation. “What the fuck? I came back, I came to Wammy’s! You said you wanted me to come with you but you left without me you bastard!”

“Emotion, Mello,” the voice filter toned. “You need to get rid of that, if you really think you can be the next L.”

“Fuck you,” Mello snarled, knuckles white where they grasped the table. Near ignored him.

“L,” he began, “you’ve finally worked it out, then?”

“The killer is sending a message,” L confirmed. “You have been following the case?”

“Of course,” Near toned. “It seems the perfect opportunity to test a theory – which of us is the best, L? You were so slow – it took you a full week to find the message. Disappointing.”

L shifted in his chair, feeling his heart skip a beat as adrenaline surged. Near’s words could be interpreted in more than one way, but undeniably one of those was that Near had left the puzzle for him to solve. L was reminded of the purpose of his last trip to the States and another Wammy’s resident.

“Actually,” L decided to prod Near’s most sensitive issue. “It was Mello who worked it out.”

The mention of the boy L had chosen as his true successor made Near fall silent for a moment.

“And you still couldn’t stop the next victim being killed,” Near pointed out. “You had the right idea but you picked the wrong letter.”

“It had the highest probability,” L explained.

“It didn’t,” Near laughed, the sound odd from Near and also through the voice filter. “You are still too obsessed with the Kira case; your deduction was biased. You’re showing your weaknesses, L.”

“You calculated differently?”

“T was the obvious choice,” Near suggested, “even if you are obsessed with Kira. Did you check the social media trends?”

L had, in fact, considered the manner in which social media was used in the Kira case to request the deaths of particular criminals; the MySpace and Facebook threads including the request Deathto- followed by a name had been common at the time and had rated just below N in his calculation of probabilities. However, with so few police officers involved in the case L had not been able to cover all those he would want to. He had asked Watari to bring in other agencies but the old man had not yet returned with any support for the leg work; several of their usual contacts were off the grid on other investigations.

“I have a wager to propose.”

“No!” Mello interrupted fiercely. “We can work this out more quickly if we work together!”

“But where would the fun be in that?” the voice filter seemed to make the question perhaps more emotive than Near’s own voice than less. “You say I treat people like a game, so I will make this one. Whoever catches the killer takes the title of L.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mello raged.

“It’s simple, really,” Near taunted. “If you catch the DD murderer, I find another way to occupy my time. If you don’t, I confirm to the world that you are compromised by Kira, and use that to take the title through any means necessary. Or, you hand it over willingly; that would be less fun.”

L held silent, considering. The world on the whole had shown a tremendous amount of approval for the actions of Kira, making this less of a threat than it potentially could have been, but he had no doubt that if Near set his mind to it he could use it to undermine L enough to de-stabilise his position. Near was at a disadvantage; L had both Mello and Light-Kira working with him. He had a very high chance of emerging victorious. Besides, this could provide the challenge he was needing to get Light back on his side.

“Deal,” L agreed, “I will set officers to guard the O’s. Don’t get in their way.”

“Would you be intending to supervise any other letters? Three and three, L, take your pick.”

L considered; after t, the most likely options for a next letter were vowels and H.

“I will send officers to O, H, and E,” L decided, giving Near A, I and U. The sheer number of characters in the A category would make it impossible for him to have enough police officers at his own disposal to take what he considered the second most likely letter for himself.

“So be it,” the N’s disappeared from the screens, the black restoring to the web pages and documents L had been viewing before.

 

* * *

 

L had been silent for hours, working on the case without permitting Mello or Light to get involved. Light didn’t press the issue, observing L as he worked, ignoring Ryuk and Mello’s shared game of Postal 2. However, once Light had occupied himself to prepare a chocolate chilli for the group, L perched with his bowl in the sitting room and addressed Mello.

“How long has Near been bored?”

Mello scowled, a spoonful of chilli pausing halfway to his lips. “He’s always bored.”

“Bored enough to create his own entertainment?”

“That’s all we ever have at Wammy’s,” Mello shrugged.

L shifted where he perched. “And how long has he thought he was ready for the title? To be L?”

“About a year,” Mello confirmed with another shrug. “He’s been waiting quite patiently, considering.”

“Has he?” L questioned, humming. “Yes, I imagine the Kira case would have offered possibilities for him.”

“What do you mean, L?” Light scowled at the detective.

“Kira needs only a name and a face to kill, and you orchestrated things so carefully that you had already seen my face and there was a good chance you would be able to obtain my name also; even though there are only a handful of people in all the world that know it,” L spoke casually, though if Light was not mistaken there was almost a note of approval or even pride in there. “Even knowing nothing of the Death Notes or the Shinigami, Near could reasonably assume that in order to defeat you I would have to sacrifice myself to prove the case.”

“He thought you were going to die?”

“It would not be an unreasonable assumption,” L smiled a little. “It was always a fair and equal match, all things considered, between Kira and I. In fact, if you had agreed to help Misa Misa, the odds would have turned strongly in your favour – not to win, you understand, you were always going to fall, but certainly to kill me.”

“So, if I had killed you, Near would have taken your place?” Light confirmed, considering the potential outcomes. On his own, Near would not be much of an opponent for him, but if he had Mello on his side to help… the two working together would indeed be formidable, and unpredictable… a challenge, to say the least.

“I expect so, since I was leaning towards Near as my preferred successor until we worked with him,” L glanced to Mello. “Please understand, I do not mean any offence; Near felt familiar to me, whilst you have always been something of a loose canon. Unless I worked with the two of you I would not have fully appreciated Near’s more dangerous aspects.”

“No offence taken,” Mello acknowledged.

“I have two further questions for you, and I would like you to consider your answers very carefully,” L, having finished his chilli, steeled himself with a sip of fifteen-sugar hot chocolate. “The first; from what you have seen, how dangerous would you consider Near? And the second; has he truly made his target to become L, or to surpass L?”

“You think he’s another Beyond?” Mello wasn’t surprised, having picked up on L’s reactions to Near’s words when they were talking earlier. “You think he’s responsible for these killings? He was in Scotland with us, L, and he was spending all his time trying to win the title; he couldn’t have killed people in America when he was in Scotland.”

“I was not suggesting that he would be here in person,” L explained. “Beyond intended to create a case even I could not solve, but his biggest mistake was to be too close to it so that when he lost the game he also lost his freedom. Near would learn from that mistake; if he were to try to do the same thing, he would remain at a distance.”

“It still wouldn’t make sense for him to cause something like this if you were actively considering him as a successor,” Mello argued.

“Near could have reasonably deduced that his less desirable qualities as the next L would prevent him from being selected,” L debated, studying the bottom of the now empty hot chocolate cup. “He could have been planning this series of murders for some time, navigating the murderer like a puppet on strings. Having been brought in for the arsonist case, he would have no reason to stop the killings; in fact, it would only encourage him to bring them forward.”

Mello could not deny the logic, but still, he could not accept this of Near, his sometimes-friend. His fists clenched, ready to fight L on this, but held it together. “How certain are you?”

“That would depend on your answers to the two questions.”

Mello fell silent, his teeth clenched tightly. He closed his eyes, shutting out the unblinking panda gaze of L; so similar to Near’s; so similar to Beyond’s. He considered, as rationally as he could.

He opened his eyes and glared into L’s.

“Near’s target in all those years at Wammy’s was _always_ to be like you; to be your equal,” Mello wished he could stop there and remain honest. “It was only when he met you that he began to see things that Near considers to be weakness; mercy, emotion… only _after_ the first killings. As to how dangerous I would consider Near to be… I don’t think the Near I know would kill just to send a message like this, but… I cannot deny that he is the most dangerous person I have ever known.”

“More dangerous than yourself?” L asked. “Than Kira?”

“Yes,” Mello admitted. “His idea of morality and ethics is purely utilitarian, and unhindered by emotion. He does not measure cost by how it would affect others, or the world, but only by how it will affect him and his goals. That would make him extremely dangerous if his goals were not aligned with ours.”

“If it would achieve his goal of becoming L, would Near consider it acceptable to orchestrate these murders?”

“… yes,” Mello reluctantly agreed.

“Thank you,” L nipped his index finger between his teeth, his calculations almost beginning before Light interrupted them.

“I’ve been very patient with you, L,” he sounded very much like that patience was wearing thin; L focused on him, wondering whether Kira was about to surface. “But I will have an explanation; who is Beyond and what makes you think Near may be like him?”

“What do you know already?”

“Only what you have told me,” Light admitted, which made sense since L had been very careful to keep him away from any device with connection to the outside world unless under direct supervision. “And what I have deduced from what you’ve said so far. Beyond was another of your heirs, wasn’t he? He was from Wammy’s like Mello and Near, but he became a killer and then he lost.”

“That’s the short version,” L agreed. “Beyond Birthday – BB – was indeed another student of Wammy’s. At that time the programme was poorly developed, and students were not allowed to follow their own route to the goal as Mello has. The only purpose was to create another L; not L the title, like a duplicate; a clone. A preparation for a seamless transition at an unknown point in the future. BB was the greatest accomplishment of the programme, he was almost exactly like me and he had another advantage still; an unnatural talent that I had once thought was madness, but now know to be similar to Shinigami eyes, so perhaps it was always real. He was not patient, and he did not want to be just the next L; that’s why he chose the name he did; he wanted to go Beyond what I could do. However, though the eyes were not a part of his madness, he was not… entirely sane. Eventually he’d had enough, and he snapped; he created a case that I should not have been able to solve, but Naomi Misora worked it out moments before he could complete his suicide that would have ended the string of murders. He survived, and is now imprisoned near LA.”

“How… committed,” Light did not attempt to hide his distain. “He really thought the only way to beat you would be to kill himself? That’s… pathetic.”

L considered Light-Kira, erring on the side of caution and deciding to act as though he were addressing the Kira side now. “If it had been any other detective than Misora, he would certainly have succeeded. None the less, BB is considered to be one of the most dangerous men on the face of the earth. They keep him in a Hannibal cage, and every once in a while, they attempt psychiatric or investigative profiling. The ones they send to see him usually end up dead or at least retired before their time.”

“You’re forgetting the most important bits,” Mello accused. L shifted uncomfortably. “BB knew L, personally, not just from a distance like Near and I did until recently. He was his absolute mirror in every way, he even looked like him, more so than Near. And, he was absolutely obsessed with L – he adored him, actually.”

“I have no doubt that if he did not, he would have attempted to kill me rather than create a case I could not solve,” L confessed. “When I saw the warning signs… when I thought Beyond might finally snap, I had thought I might be able to prevent him going on his killing spree by agreeing to the sort of relationship he demanded from me, but I could not bring myself to do it. He was exactly like me, every feature, every movement – except the eyes. It was always too unnerving - even I’m not that narcissistic.”

Light laughed, considering that L was exactly that narcissistic, so he must have known something even then that had made him resist such a connection. Before he continued the conversation, he retrieved an ice lolly from the freezer for L, who was starting to curl in on himself in a way that would not be conducive to continued conversation. “So when Watari reported that Near was just like you, it didn’t worry you at all?”

“Of course it did,” L admitted. “But there were enough differences between him and Beyond that I thought there was enough probability he would be different… I thought if he was given his opportunity to start case work early, if he took his own title, he would be able to maintain his patience until the title of L was open.”

“Which of us was going to be Coil?” Mello asked, considering. To Light he explained, “L has also made himself a reputation as the second and third greatest detectives in the world – Eraldo Coil and Daneuve. I did wonder… but now I’m sure. You acquired those names for us?”

“I did,” L confirmed, his lips twitching into a smile. “That way you could get your own cases and if it happened that either of you really were good enough to be better than me, you could earn that name for yourself.”

“I’m impressed,” Mello tipped his head, considering. “I was going to be Daneuve, wasn’t I? Your reputation as Coil was even more antisocial than as L.”

“Yes. And Near would have been Coil.”

“So, how likely do you think it is that Near is behind these killings?” Light brought them back onto topic, rather than dwelling on what might have been had things been different.

“I am cautious that my calculations might be weighted by past experience, or the other way by my connections to Near,” L reasoned. “It is somewhere between seven and eleven percent.”

“So, it is still far more likely that he isn’t involved,” Light reasoned reassuringly. “We shouldn’t dwell on it, then, but we should just be careful to look for any signs that suggest it could be true.”

 

* * *

 

Mello could not account for the fact that L still shared a room with Light, since they no longer seemed to hold each other in the same affection they had a week ago, when the notebooks were theoretically influencing their actions. It was true that there were times when the pair got along well, but that was almost entirely related to the case now. The easy interaction that they had exchanged between serious conversations before was gone; when he was not otherwise occupied, Light did not appear to be the same person he had been when Mello first met him. The red illusion that showed through his eyes when the darkest aspect of his personality, Kira, was in control, was almost constantly present whenever Light was bored now, and whenever he thought Mello and L were not looking.

L had been showing signs of tiredness when Mello arrived; he was clearly due to sleep. Before Light had changed his sleeping pattern, a side effect of being handcuffed together, L had only slept once in every three or four days. For him to be so tired, Mello expected he had been avoiding the bedroom and avoiding sleep since Kira had re-surfaced so fiercely.

Usually Mello would have gone to his bed about an hour before Light and L, back when they were chained together. He had always been a cheerful morning person, so he preferred to sleep early in contrast to most teenage boys. But he was wary of what would happen when L retired to bed with Kira at the surface rather than Light, and so decided he would stay awake longer that night and introduce Ryuk to Manhunt on the PlayStation.

He allowed an hour from when L had retired to bed before he decided to take a sneak peek into the room and found L sprawled chaotically over Light, with Light’s arm wrapped loosely around the detective’s back. Both were entirely appropriately clothed, and from the layout of the covers they had likely fallen asleep at opposite edges of the bed facing away from one another. Mello smiled; it seemed in their sleep the affection remained, even if Kira’s resurgence had inhibited their waking interactions.

He closed the door carefully, making sure not to make the slightest noise that might disturb them.

“Mello,” a voice modifier filled the living room with sound. Mello jolted around, a gun raised in either hand on instinct. “You have your guns out, don’t you? Put them away, we need to talk.”

Mello snarled at the white screens with a stylised N, keeping his guns in his hands out of spite.

“Near,” he greeted. “What do you want? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I figured you would be awake,” Near told him; that made no sense – Mello was almost never awake this late. “Come, sit closer so I can turn the volume down, you wouldn’t want me to wake L and Kira.”

Mello did as he was told, glancing round the room as he did so. “Bugs and wire taps?”

“Intelligence and rational thought,” Near countered. “I know you, Mello.”

Mello continued to snarl but took the seat at the computer.

“What do you want?”

“Your help, of course. We were always meant to work together in the end.”

“You left me at Wammy’s,” Mello argued.

“I know.”

“Now you want my help?

“Yes.”

Mello slid the guns away, needing to have his hands free to wrap around an imaginary version of Near’s neck in an attempt to control his temper.

“I had to leave you at Wammy’s to make sure L would accept your return,” Near explained. “I need you to be my eyes and ears in their investigation. I need you to help me win this.”

“I should just refuse outright,” Mello reminded him angrily.

“You should, but you won’t,” Near sounded so confident; it only served to infuriate Mello further. “You don’t need to answer; you will do it anyway. Goodnight, Mello.”

“Near, wait!” Mello stared at the suddenly black screens, sure that Near would not have just left. Eventually the white and the N returned.

“What is it?”

Mello breathed a sigh of relief. “Near, there’s something you should know… L has a theory…”

“Is it about the case?”

“Sort of,” Mello tried to continue but was interrupted.

“Will it help me to solve it?” Near sounded almost impatient now through the filter. Would telling Near that L suspected he was involved make any difference to help Near solve the case?

“…no,” Mello admitted. No, if Near was involved, he would already know that, and if he wasn’t involved, he would only be distracted by L’s suspicions.

“Goodnight, Mello,” Near signed off finally, the screens going black again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re the computer games mentioned in this, both are from the old days of PlayStation 2. Postal 2 was controversial due to containing violence, sexual themes and drug use and was banned in several countries; Manhunt was also controversial for containing violence, though the major backlash for this game occurred after it was thought to have been the inspirational factor behind a teenager who committed murder. I absolutely do not recommend them, but they strike me as exactly the kind of thing Mello would play.


	4. Oliver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mello takes his own tack to "research" for the case; some of L's own issues show through his L mask; Near is a horrid little cheater psycho (but we love him anyway)

Light decided that Mello being in the house was not a good thing after all.

He came to this conclusion instantly on waking, his ears assaulted painfully by the sound of off-key, extremely loud singing from the living room.

“Ev'ry boulevard is a miracle mile, You'll take the town and you'll take it with style, If you play it brave and bold, These are streets of gold!” Mello’s voice chorused, slightly out of time with the background music as if reading the lyrics from a karaoke machine. From the sound of the furniture rattling he presumed the boy was also dancing around the living room or even jumping on the furniture. Faintly, though drowned out by Mello’s volume, Light was sure he could hear Ryuk also singing along between laughs. “To live from week to week, You need technique’ So you practice every day!”

Light groaned, shaking of L’s arm from around his side, snatching the pillow around his ears to block out as much noise as possible and nudging at L with a foot.

“L, wake up,” he snapped, nudging the detective again. L’s eyes remained stubbornly closed but tighter now, clearly faking sleep. “L, you can’t honestly sleep through that racket!”

“The only rule is: Thou shalt not get caught, get what you can and then get away! Remember all the places you can hide! Remember we are always on your side!”

“L, seriously, wake up!” Light protested, pushing L onto his back and considering how to get him to move. He wondered if L was waiting for him to kiss him awake, as he would have a week ago. He would be waiting a long time for that; the notebook was his again now, and he was no longer forced to be so nice to the detective. Perhaps he should go deal with Mello by himself? No, Mello would only be more amused if they did not present a united front.

“L, last warning,” he allowed his tone to change, not masking the threat behind it. When he was rational like this he could recognise clearly the difference between his mask and Kira.

“When you've got talent ev'rything is free, Watch how you do things, oooh, I guarantee!”

“Fine, you asked for it,” Light smirked and swung a fist at L’s face. L’s eyes snapped open before it could hit, his body shifting backwards swiftly, misjudging the distance and falling out of the bed in a tangle of sheets and flailing limbs. A small yelp accompanied his head hitting the ground. Light laughed at him shamelessly, looking over the side of the bed just outside kicking distance. “Good morning, L.”

“Kira,” L spat, glaring at him. Light grinned back, but cringed when Mello’s voice assaulted his ears again.

“You're gonna see how the best survive, We make an art out of staying alive, If you do just as you're told, These are streets of gold!”

“Can we deal with that?” Light demanded, not waiting for an answer as he stomped out of bed and yanked open the door. L followed quickly, seeing the flash of red in Light’s eyes.

“Ev'ry boulevard is a miracle mile, you’ll take the town and you'll take it with style, if you play it brave and bold, these are streets of gold”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Light demanded, slamming the door behind him and L and storming towards Mello.

“Research on the case,” Mello pointed out. “The cat’s called Oliver – he’s an O.”

“He has a point,” L supported Mello, taking up his detecting perch on the chair directly in front of the television and hitting the rewind button to go back to the start of the song. Light stopped in his tracks, rounding on the detective.

“You have got to be kidding!” he protested, snatching for the remote. L held it at arm’s length away from him.

“Not at all,” L sounded very serious. “There could be clues in the character choices that we would not see if we just look at the names. We should watch every scene involving a character with the correct letter – it is just research, Light-Kira, for the case.”

“This won’t help the case and you know it! You just want to annoy me.”

“Why would I want to do that?” L looked hurt.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’m not your pet anymore!”

Mello and Ryuk stilled their dancing and backed off as the mood of the room instantly shifted.

L’s wide eyes were unblinking as they surveyed him. “You were never my pet, Light-Kira.”

“Of course I was!” Light glared at him. “You still have a bloody shock collar on me. You were only too happy to let the notebook influence my thoughts and actions towards you, create a relationship where there was nothing.”

“Is that what all of this has been about? You’re still bitter that the notebook made you like me?”

“I’m angry that _you_ used it to make me like you,” Light snarled the distinction.

“Do you really believe that? How quickly did I give the notebook back to you once I realised that was happening? I don’t want you controlled, Light-Kira, I want you to control yourself!”

“You want me to follow _your_ rules!”

“Yes!” L’s crouch had lifted just a little, from deductive to a striking pose, balanced neatly on the balls of his feet and ready for a fight. “Because those are the rules that mean I can keep you alive! I don’t want to have to see you die, Light!”

Behind Light, Mello and Ryuk grinned at the confession, but L’s openness did not break through to Kira.

“You’re a fucking liar! The only reason you keep me around is so you can learn more about the death note, the Shinigami, and use the power without dirtying your own hands!” he accused ferociously, “If you get rid of me you would forget about all of that and you wouldn’t ever let knowledge go like that. You don’t care about _me,_ you only care about what advantage you stand to gain.”

L was silent for a very long time. Light snarled, further enraged.

“See?” he confirmed aloud to himself. “You can’t even deny it, can you?”

L hit the play button on the television. The song began again, but this time neither Mello or Ryuk sang along, breath held as they waited, uncertain. L’s eyes were unfocused although they were directed at the screen.

Slowly, very softly, “I do care about you, Light.”

Light was startled; although he knew L was a very capable liar, he had rarely heard the detective sound so honest and vulnerable.

“I do care about you, and that is why I need you to control yourself.” L took a shuddering breath. “I would really rather prefer not to lose you… I can’t lose anyone else.”

Light reeled, “You’re talking about Beyond again. Now that I’ll believe – you cared about him.”

“I did.” L could not bring himself to finish his thought aloud, could not risk to compromise himself any further – he had already said far too much. He had never been so open with anyone as he was with Light. _But never so deeply as I care about you. Never with this tearing in my chest every time we are pulled apart, this desire to remain close even when you’re Kira. Perhaps especially when you’re Kira._ “I cared about Beyond, he was a friend, and I cared about Near too.”

“People care about their pets, too,” Light finished. “I’m not some rabid dog to be tamed, I should have been God of the New World – I could leave here at any time now, I’m not your pet.”

“If you truly believe you could leave, there is an 80% chance you would have done so,” L mused calmly, taking comfort in the calculations.

“Not your pet then? Your prisoner, still,” Kira laughed, and it was a cruel laugh that showed the cracks in his psyche. “I knew that, of course, but it’s good to hear you admit it for a change.”

L finally, finally lifted his eyes to meet Light-Kira’s, and spoke softly enough that he could hardly be heard over the sound of the singing cartoon dogs.

“Perhaps it would help you understand,” L considered, “If you were to meet Beyond.”

Kira stilled, falling silent. The possibilities raced through his thoughts; dark and rational and emotional racing with one another. If he met Beyond… Beyond had Shinigami eyes and had known L; he owed L no favours since L had him imprisoned; he could get L’s name, be free of his now imperceptible chains. If he met Beyond, he could learn what had so damaged L that had him falling apart at the thought of Near turning away. If he met Beyond, he could understand why L had been so happy to play with his own emotions and affection and yet would not use that to save his friend from himself. Perhaps even confirm that the affection L showed him in an attempt to chain him was indeed false.

“I doubt it,” Light denied, “but if you think it would be helpful…”

“I do,” L nodded, resolved. “At the end of this word, during the killer’s next gap, we shall travel to LA. Beyond would be delighted to meet you I’m sure.”

_I’m counting on it,_ the part of Light that was Kira smirked, Light covering it with a forgiving smile as his mask.

“You know, sometimes you make absolutely no sense, L,” he teased, the familiar mask taking hold easily. L only studied him for a moment more before sighing and getting to his feet.

“Would you help me make pancakes?” L requested, gathering the ingredients as Light had taught him; Light didn’t trust him to actually mix the batter as he added sugar to the mix and supposedly spoiled them. “Mello, are there many other films to watch?”

“A few,” Mello confirmed. “But this one also contains a character with the letter E - Einstein, so I think we should all watch it together from the beginning, don’t you agree?”

“Hmm,” L considered, looking to Light. “There were three days between the killings before, and the police should already be in position. It would not be time wasted.”

“It absolutely would be,” Light argued, sifting the flour for the pancakes. L frowned at how carefully he was doing so, trying not to get any flour on his clothes. Retrieving the baby pink apron and setting it around Light’s neck, he tied it behind him. Light turned his head, ready to address his complaint about the colour to L, but was silenced as L kissed him. He froze, not kissing back, wishing L would give up with this now; without the influence of the Death Note it wasn’t going to work.

He wouldn’t let it work.

“You don’t have to sing along,” L offered when he eventually released Light’s lips.

“If there was ever a top ten list of causes for murder sprees, I’m pretty sure karaoke must appear on the list somewhere,” Light postulated.

“Not even in the top twenty, so we’ll be fine,” L was so enthusiastic, bouncing around the kitchen as he made the coffees. “Mello, why don’t you re-wind it to the start?”

“I might endeavour to put it into the top twenty,” Light warned, “and I might not put any white chocolate chips in the pancakes.”

“You wouldn’t!” Mello pleaded from the sofa.

“You’re homicidal, not cruel,” L reasoned, offering Light his coffee. “You could just go for your swim whilst we watch the film?”

Light sighed heavily. “Keep the door closed.”

L nodded, engulfing him in an awkward hug that spilled pancake batter down the detective’s back. Light struggled out of his grasp.

“Don’t _do_ that!”

“But Light-Kira…”

“I don’t like unexpected hugs,” Light warned him. “They remind me of Misa.”

“Oh,” L flushed. He shuffled his feet and spoke in a helpless tone. “Would you rather it was Misa?”

“What?” Light spilled a little more pancake batter as he almost dropped the whole bowl into the pan. He rounded on L, rather bemused. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

L’s creepiest, widest smile as back as he took his coffee back to the sitting room, quickly pressing play on the remote.

Light had to hand it to him, the detective really was trying very hard to get him to bow to his affections again. He almost wanted to; he had been honest with L when they had conversed about the issue in Scotland, his affection would probably have developed on his own had there been no Death Note, no Kira, and only Light Yagami and L working together. Perhaps the affection was still there, supressed, but Light would and could not acknowledge it, not when it would give L such power over him.

Still, L had spoken so freely earlier (if what he said was even honest; though Light thought it was, it rang true even on the detective’s lying tongue) and showed so many vulnerabilities. It seemed L did have some level of affection for him, and if that were the case, perhaps he could use it against him? Perhaps L would fall into his own trap?

And if that didn’t work, L had promised to take him to meet Beyond; he would have L’s name, and he could end the detective at any time.

The thought was both titillating and left him with a sour taste in the back of his throat.

 

* * *

 

The film had barely finished when the telephone rang. Mello answered as he was closest, spoke very little, and then threw the device through the glass doors – shattering them – and out into the water of the swimming pool, leaping to his feet with a shriek.

“Akane, what’s wrong?” Ryuk threw his arms around the boy, holding him back before he could flip the coffee table.

“Oliver is dead!”

“No,” L gasped, staring at the film box with wide eyed horror. His detecting mind engaged quickly, discarding the DVD case. “Light, get out here!”

Light, dressed only in a towel, damp and flushed all over as he had only just got out of the shower, rushed into the room, the notebook and a pen in his hands and open to the next available page. His eyes flashed around the room, looking for an aggressor. Not finding one, he closed the book and set it on a bare section of bookcase beside him.

“You’d better have a good reason for this,” Light growled, shifting his position so that he was partially concealed by the door frame. L’s eyes widened as he realised what Light was hiding; how the towel had been arranged at the front due to what it concealed. Mello and Ryuk clearly noticed the same thing and were guffawing with laughter.

“Is that a gun under that towel or are you just happy to see us?” Mello asked, letting go of the edge of the coffee table, seeing a better outlet for his frustration.

“Mello…” Light began in his Kira voice.

“The DD killer struck again,” L intervened. “Oliver – the actor in the Oliver costume – is dead.”

“But it’s only been a day,” Light frowned.

“The police weren’t there,” Mello told them. “The killings had been every three days, so even though we told them to guard the characters around the clock they didn’t, they said it would have been a waste of resources.”

“They were meant to be there,” L’s cold fury was unnervingly similar to Near’s. “Useless, no wonder they can’t solve cases.”

“Well,” Light reassured. “We should still have the footage to go through, and maybe we can get the forensics done properly this time. Mello, could you…”

“On it,” Mello rushed to get changed into clothing that would not leave any confounding fibres around the crime scene, taking Ryuk with him, tossing the Shinigami an apple on the way past one of the several fruit bowls. He would go to the park and try to find anything the police had missed.

“L, you could be bringing up the footage,” Light recommended, poised as he turned back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him, the Death Note left discarded on the bookcase outside.

L’s eyes lingered on the notebook, contemplating whether he should take it or not, trying not to think about whether the reason behind Light’s physical arousal was the normal physiology of an eighteen-year-old boy or whether it had been activated by the thought of using the notebook he had been holding at the time.

He chose not to take the Note; there was a thirty-four percent chance he was making the wrong decision, but he had less important things to attend to. He swiftly activated the monitors for the computers and began to run the facial recognition for the person who was in the Oliver suit, and the suit itself, to isolate all the appropriate footage.

It took Light more than ten minutes to emerge from the room; L chose not to pass comment on the length of the time it had taken, inconsistent with simply getting changed.

Each taking a number of screens, with the same time period from different views, the two settled in to watching the footage.

Five minutes before the Oliver figure was found dead, the footage suddenly went black and then white, a N filling the screen.

“Near,” L greeted.

“Well that was a poor show, old man,” Near taunted.

“The police failed.”

“You failed to ensure they did their jobs,” Near denied him the excuse. L glared at the screen. “There were few enough O’s that you could have been there in person, or at least sent _Mello_.”

“He broke his pattern,” L reasoned. “There should have been another two days before he killed again. There was only a 20% chance he would kill out of the pattern he had established, and that was based on very little evidence.”

“The officers working with me have guarded their characters since the moment they arrived for work today. 20% is sufficient for them to do their jobs. Also, I got 28%. He knows we’re watching now, all the more reason to change the pattern of killings.”

“This word is finished,” L considered. “I do not expect he will change his pattern for the next; he will know we can’t be 100% sure what name he is going to spell.”

“I agree. He will not strike early, not this time. We have eight days. I will have guards monitor the L’s, before you start,” Near told them. “Save you from your narcissism.”

“As we shall be watching the L’s also, your police will be surplus to requirements,” L challenged. “Unless you wish to go above and Beyond.”

Near’s laugh was distorted by the voice modifier – what was likely just a short and gentle chuckle from the boy was amplified into something more chilling. “Oh, L, now I see what you truly think of me. I’m flattered, really. After all, you _liked_ him nearly as much as you like Kira.”

“You don’t deny it then?”

“Do you believe it?” Near asked curiously in return. “Your percentage, L?”

“Fourteen percent,” L challenged. Near laughed.

“Wrong.”

The computer screen shut down. It wasn’t just that the N went away; the entire system was closed off completely.

L and Light looked at each other, both considering what Near had meant by ‘wrong’. Was it wrong that the percentage was too low, or too high? As it was Near, he left it impossible to tell.

“Make that nineteen percent,” L finally concluded, trying to boot up the computers.

When they finally switched back on, the footage from the park that day was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't think I was going to get this uploaded tonight, last minute rush - done no writing today but ideas abound for more. good thing I'm so far ahead on this story and a bit ahead on Misora Massacre too - if you haven't go check that one out; just about to get extra interesting (read bloody)


	5. Beyond Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near visits Mello. L takes Light to see Beyond Birthday with some hope it might shake Light into being less homicidal.

They had eight days. L and Near had agreed.

Eight days was enough time for the forensic evidence gathered by Mello that day to lead to at least initial reports, which could be helpful. It was enough time for several reviews of the evidence, including viewing the films for all of the characters that wandered around within Disney. It was enough time to scold the police for their laxity that had allowed the killer to strike again even though they had been warned who would be the most likely target.

But most importantly of all for Light, it gave enough time to arrange and orchestrate a visit to Beyond Birthday in LA. For L, eight days was sufficient lee way for Mello to be given control to arrange the rest; it was good practice for him, according to L.

L and Light flew out the next day, leaving Mello and Ryuk alone. Ryuk lamented the aspects of hard work, but delighted in watching the films in the background whilst Mello worked; the teenager also struggled to stay still, and realised he would have to come up with coping strategies to deal with his restlessness for longer cases like this; he had never had to do so much of the sitting-at-a-desk work before, not constantly moving or exploding things.

The second night, Mello was really flagging. It certainly wasn’t that he was tired; he had so much energy he was fairly sure he could run up the walls if he chose to. His brain was simply stuck; frozen, like he imagined writer’s block would be. Detective’s block?

Perhaps it was because of this mental slowing that he did not initially realise Near’s voice was not emerging from the computer screens but instead from the very real younger boy he had thought he was imagining where he crouched in a chair opposite Mello.

“They’ve gone to see the lunatic, then?” Near asked when Mello finally acknowledged him after he handed him the Tarot card of the Devil; a card he had always said embodied Mello; the physical feel of the card was what finally convinced Mello to pay attention.

“Don’t call him that,” Mello cautioned. “It’s a fine line, as we both know, between genius and insanity.”

“L thinks I’m on the wrong side of that line now,” Near did not sound affected; never sounded affected. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re still Near,” Mello gave the non-answer. “I think you don’t need to be insane to be out for your own interests no matter the cost.”

“I’m not killing these people, Mello,” Near told him, perhaps honestly – it was impossible to say, with Near.

“Maybe not,” Mello acknowledged. “But you cheat. You don’t need to use your own hands to be the one behind the killings. I’m sorry, Near, I can’t take that risk.”

“And if I gave you my word, would you believe me?”

“I would ask you to swear on one of my crosses if I thought it would make any difference,” Mello chuckled. “You lie and you cheat and you feel no remorse for it. You’re a fantastic sociopath, it’s what makes you, you. It’s also why I can’t trust you.”

“If you can’t trust me, you can still help me,” Near argued. “Two of us together would be unstoppable. Tell me what you can of the investigation here.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Mello told him. “The samples have been sent to the labs from the last killing…”

“Yes, we commandeered some of those, no hard feelings?” Near’s lips curled a little to a miniscule smile. “All’s fair in war.”

“It’s meant to be all’s fair in love and war,” Mello pointed out.

“Ah, yes,” Near’s lips curled a little more. “How’s that going by the way? They didn’t seem all that friendly, last time I checked in. Kira lost it yet? It was a very bad idea, giving him back the notebook.”

“They’re working it out,” Mello hedged warily.

“Those two,” Near shook his head, looking exasperated. “Either they’re going to end up married and disgustingly committed to one another, or one of them will die. I’m calling L within the month, if you want a bet?”

“I’ll take that,” Mello agreed. “Ten thousand pounds says L survives the month.”

“Deal. Do you have anything else for me?”

“No,” Mello determined.

“Then we will speak again after the kills re-start,” Near advised, leaving. Mello watched as Rodger pulled the limousine out of the drive and along the road.

 

* * *

 

A quick call to Watari and arrangements were being made for L and Light to fly to LA the very next morning, the negotiations to allow them in to visit the highest security prisoner in the country (outside of L’s pre-existing visit schedule) taking up the next few days. L even deigned to remove Light’s remaining handcuff, removing the ability to incapacitate him quickly if he was out of control but streamlining the process for the airport and prison security.

“Are you sure he can handle it?” Douglas, the guard, asked L as they made their way through the prison, going further and further into the rabbit warren of corridors and down into the earth; Beyond’s cell was located five floors down in a set up much like a nuclear bunker. This had been a progressive move; the man had killed only three people, so had initially been considered suitable for a period of assessment in solitary at L’s recommendation but had managed to get released into general prison population; there he had killed more people, and orchestrated the killing of others. They had moved him into solitary, but then those in the cells next to him started ending their own lives, so they moved him away from the others, and a series of further incidents had led to his containment in the bowels of the prison.

“Kiran,” L used Light’s alias for this day; a Hindi name meaning beam of light and also very close to ‘Kira’ so Light would always respond to the sudden alternate name, “has experience with serial killers of the most serious degree. Beyond might be a bit different to what he is used to, but I trust him to hold his own in there.”

“Rather you than me,” the guard warned Light. “No one’s allowed in with him without sound blocking headphones, even just to give him his meals. Almost all of his guards have gone mad or killed themselves.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Light smiled brightly, his social mask perfect. “I doubt there is much he can do to send me mad, all things considered, but I will bear it in mind.”

The guard looked suspiciously over him, taking in the perfect image presented before him, and shrugged off the comment as misinterpreted. The polite and well-presented detective before him would have no reason to suggest that his own sanity was less than stellar.

The door to the outer part of the Hannibal cell opened, and L stepped in without hesitation, unconcerned.

“Hello, Beyond, nice to see you again. Forgive the impromptu visit, I hear you’ve been being very naughty,” L began in one of the most enthusiastic tones Light had ever heard him use outside of a case. Light entered as well, hanging back to study the cell. The four solid walls around them were broken halfway down by a sheet of bullet proof glass and Perspex that was built at either end into both walls. Aside from a food slot and some small air holes, which circulated the air from the visitor’s side of the cell into the unventilated prisoner’s part, there were no breaks in the solid partition – it was as if the cell had been built around Beyond whilst he sat waiting. The cell was scantily furnished; a bed built into the wall; a table and a single chair bolted to the floor.

The chair was not very close to the table, but that didn’t matter much since the occupant of the cell was not using it; he was crouched at the back of the cell, flicking through pages of a soft bound file with long, spider-like fingers in a crouch that was unnervingly familiar.

“You’ve brought a new toy!” Beyond crooned as he looked up through the hair that fell over his eyes – black, and arranged exactly like L’s. He fixed his eyes on Light in earnest then, the creepy smile Light had grown familiar with from L looking twisted and bizarre once again on this face; a face so similar to L’s and yet so different, burned and scarred. Red eyes blazed from the mess of mangled flesh.

Insect like on his long and gangly limbs, Beyond scuttled forwards on all fours to come close to the glass.

“Does he know how to play?” Beyond asked in a pleading tone.

“You’ve been locked up in here too long,” L accused, judgemental. “Your L impression is off.”

Beyond’s grin faltered and turned briefly into a snarl; suddenly his expression was schooled and he stood, his back and knees bent exactly like L’s. He slipped his hands into his pockets and shuffled as if embarrassed. With his eyes down and his hair over his face, the effect was terrifying to Light.

“So is yours. You are using that name around your new toy?” Beyond’s voice had changed; the emotion bled out of it, turning it into a sound that perfectly mimicked L’s. L stiffened a little, a tell. So, L was actually a part of the detective’s real name? Light had expected as much, but it was good to have confirmation all the same. He grinned, moving closer to the glass, closer to L and Beyond.

“You know me then?”

“Of course,” Beyond shrugged. So like L… “I may be imprisoned, but I still hear the news. You are Kira, Yagami Raito, Light Yagami – which name would you like?”

“Which name do you see?” Light asked curiously. He was certain that his name had not been in the news.

“Yagami Raito, the original kanji,” Beyond told him, looking briefly above his head. He grinned, his L mask slipping. “Did L tell you or did the eye colour give it away?”

“Both,” Light found himself grinning back. Unhinged as he was, there was something about Beyond that was familiar, aside from his obvious resemblance to L. “There are, of course, things _L_ hasn’t told me.”

Light used the initial pointedly, fully aware that L was in the room and would know what he was doing but knowing also that L would find it impossible to stop Beyond telling him his name, now, if he chose. But the L mask was back, the smile gone.

“Tell me, Kira, what was it about me that stopped you killing me?” he asked with L’s curiosity.

“Time and opportunity,” Light answered honestly. Indeed, the Los Angeles BB murderer had been on his list of people to kill but he had needed more time to find a true name; he seriously doubted Beyond Birthday was the man’s real title. Although, if he had found nothing else, he might still have attempted it at some point.

“Ah, a pity,” BB considered. “I would have been interested to know if you would succeed. My face is rather different now, you see.”

“I do,” Light acknowledged. “L told me you burned?”

Beyond laughed, allowing his L mask to slip away fully now. He hopped up onto the table top, taking on L’s deductive crouch, except Beyond bounded from the tips of his toes to the back of his heels and back, again and again and again, metronomic like the ticking of a clock.

“Have you ever felt fire?” Beyond questioned, his eyes glazed and his face split by what was clearly the sort of smile that would accompany a fond recollection. “It’s helpful, at a distance, all light and warm and friendly. But up close…”

Beyond’s terrifying laughter said more than any words could.

“I wondered what it would feel like to burn,” Beyond continued. “I wanted L to see it, to _know_ I had killed those people, but not be able to do a thing to prove it. Do you want to know how I killed them?”

“Beyond, that’s enough,” L scolded. Light almost startled, he had very nearly forgotten the detective’s presence behind him; he took a few steps back, realising how much closer he had moved to the glass. He kept his expression perfectly masked, but it felt like a retreat. Beyond studied him closely, pressing his advantage.

“Look at you, so perfect, not a hair out of place,” he purred, rocking forwards and holding there, no longer dropping back to his heels. “Did you never want to get your hands dirty? To feel the blood on your hands, on your skin, cut and cut until the screaming stopped?”

“Beyond…”

“Gods do not walk among their subjects striking the final blow by hand,” Kira drew himself up, his own mask gone now. L closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and steeled himself; this was bad. He had taken a calculated risk, bringing Light here; had thought it might knock some sense into him, to see what he could become, and what they were possibly up against with Near – but with the part of him that was Kira in control, how could he not be drawn to Beyond Birthday?

“Oooh,” Beyond laughed, wringing his hands in front of him. “Aren’t you fascinating? Yes, I can see why he wants to keep you.”

“He didn’t want to keep you,” Light prodded, wanting to see what dragons it would awake. Beyond’s laughter intensified.

“I’m like a lion; he has to keep me in a cage and admire from a distance,” he justified. “You’re… you’re his little lap dog now, Kira. If he were truly frightened of you he’d have you locked up too.”

“Perhaps,” Light allowed. “Or perhaps he is simply delaying the inevitable – perhaps he realises that no matter what he does, I will kill him one day for his sins.”

“Tell me, what did L do when he got a Notebook?” Beyond asked, every word pointed, enunciated. L hissed a breath out through teeth; how did his mad old friend know about that? Had Near truly been here; was Near working with Beyond to bring him down?

“He kept his hands clean,” Light said by way of answer; to anyone watching on the cameras monitoring the conversation, there would be no denying that he was Kira, but the general public rumour was that L was working with Kira and as he was using such a similar alias it would make no difference; they would have worked that much out. However, the answer Light gave would give anyone watching the idea that L had not used the killing weapon, but to Beyond…

“I’ll bet he did,” Beyond’s grin was feral now. He hopped down from the table again, scuttling forwards on all fours, right up to the glass. There was a painted line about a metre away from the glass that Beyond was not meant to cross; an alarm sounded and L moved closer to Light. Beyond laughed again.

“We have to go,” L told Light, taking his hand to pull him away. Beyond fell instantly silent, straightening to his full height; taller than both of them by a couple of inches at least. His red eyes were fixed on their joined hands.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Beyond teased, but the taunt came from between grinding teeth. “You’d never have _feelings_ for a killer, would you L? It wouldn’t get your attention at all. Except, look at you now. How far you have fallen.”

“That’s enough,” L told him firmly. Beyond growled; not a metaphorical thing, an actual, animal like growl.

“Kira,” he fixed the red eyes on him again. “When you solve this case, you will need to come back to me once more. When that happens, I will decide whether you deserve to know L’s true name. I would prefer for him to die beneath my knife, his blood rushing over my hands, splattering onto the walls as he stares back in horror, helpless, but if you cannot arrange that, I’m sure you will manage something painful and slow for him.”

Light held his gaze, unwavering.

“Mortals do not have the right to command the hand of God,” he warned. “When I return, you will give me L’s name, and I, your God, will decide his fate.”

Beyond laughed, looking to L.

“When you return, you will bring him with you or I will not speak,” he demanded. “And I promise you will need me to speak.”

The outer door was unlocked, the guards rushing in with noise cancelling headphones in place. L and Light were bustled out of the room as the guards held the perimeter of the cell, riot shields and guns at the ready. Beyond threw back his head to laugh at them all, then scuttled backwards to his perch on top of the table.

“We have some questions,” the prison’s lead officer told them once the guards were out, the door locked and secured.

“Yes, I am Kira,” Light grinned unnervingly at the officer, taking his inspiration from Beyond. “No, I will not be killing you today. No, you have no right under the law to contain me here, or breach the confidentiality under which this visit was arranged.”

“Kiran…” L tried to intervene, clutching Light’s hand more tightly.

“Has anyone else been to visit Beyond?” Light queried, knowing that L would want to know if Near had been here.

“All visits are confidential…”

“Young kid, white hair, grey eyes, another look alike, maybe you thought he was a family member?” Light prompted, watching the look in the man’s eyes for a yes or a no. Satisfied with his non-verbal answer, Light made a decision to settle down; he suspected L would not permit them to get far out of this secure environment until his mask was back in place. He could practically feel himself shrinking an inch or two even though his posture remained straight, the redness of his eyes that was only visible to those who had touched his Death Note fading back to brown, the extreme tension leaving every muscle.

He turned to L, squeezing his hand back with a reassuring smile.

“Shall we?”

L let out a breath, tension leaving him too; it didn’t matter that Kira was right there below the surface, that he was barely restrained and delighting in the power the visit to Beyond had handed him. Once the mask was up, it would not be broken until Light was good and ready.

L was glad that his usual crouched posture and loose trousers did not give away the other reason for his tension. Perhaps it would be worth considering carefully just how dangerous spending time with Light-Kira had become. Even, considering whether Watari’s offer of a psychiatrist to assess for hybristophilia would be useful.

“You won’t be coming back here,” L warned Light as they got into the car.

“If you say so, L,” Light grinned at him, a perfect mimic of Beyond’s tooth baring snarl. L felt a shiver run through his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are very few real Hannibal cells out there worldwide; these are the cells that are a combination of solid walls and at least one bullet proof glass and/or Perspex with very small air holes and a single slot for anything to go in or out, with absolutely zero privacy afforded at any time. As above, the furniture is bolted securely to the floor and very controlled numbers and types of loose items are permitted into the cell; generally, these have to be given back after use. People are familiar with them from the Hannibal films and the most recent reference with a kind of accurate cell I’ve noted was from Sherlock, series 4 (although there the glass was a bit missing). There is a very locked door of course, but B's cell is meant to have been designed by L and be a bit different. No door is evident.


	6. Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L seeks advice. He also tests the security at the parks, giving Mello a chance to be a kid for once in the process. Light tests boundaries.

They only had one more day before the killer was due to strike again.

L complimented Mello on having done a good job arranging things when they were away, even though they had gained very little information from the forensics evidence or the medical examiner’s latest report. The man in the Oliver suit had been stabbed with a fine skewer, as with all the previous victims. The footage had been completely wiped not only from L’s computers but also from all other storage, so it could not give them any more information. Mello had orchestrated as many police officers as possible to guard the Disney parks, reducing the number of characters that would be used in the performances that day to a manageable number for the officers to guard.

“We should check their security ourselves,” L recommended that morning, when it was clear that they were all restless without anything to do. “Mello, do you have any US permits for your guns?”

“Yes,” Mello nodded. “Want me to go through the bag search with some concealed?”

“That would be helpful,” L approved. “Put one of them in loose, and another concealed as well as you can. Light, you can hold the permits and identification for the three of us – you will be unarmed of course.”

Light hadn’t expected to be trusted with a weapon anyway, not that he would bother using one. He had the Death Note.

“You can’t take the notebook either,” L cautioned. “The public know enough that if you’re showing our ID’s they will probably search you and find it. While I doubt they would successfully confiscate it, it would waste time. I will take two bags with me; one with a metal skewer, the other plastic. We shall see if they even search for them, and if they do whether they find them.”

“What identification will we be using?” Light wondered, fairly sure that if they went on their own identification they would cause too much of a stir.

“FBI,” L had various identification for different purposes; all had a solid paper trail behind them and a fully formed alias he could use interchangeably. Over the last few weeks since Light had agreed to join his investigations he had worked on creating similarly solid alternate names for Light. Their FBI identification was as valid as any FBI pass and through treaty agreement the FBI would back the credentials on their ID’s if contacted.

“Oh, and Ryuk” the Shinigami looked up from where he lounged across the sofa sipping apple juice like a fine wine. “You will be coming too. I would like to see whether any of the security systems can pick up your presence.”

“Fine, so long as Mello and I can go on some of the rides.”

“It would be good to become more familiar with the layout of the parks,” L approved the idea. His eyes settled on Light, who smiled a little back at him.

“Don’t worry so much,” Light reassured him. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

L nodded, still wary. The younger man was too changeable at the moment to be sure. He looked away, fiddling with his honey fruit porridge, stirring it around rather than eating it as he considered possible ways to stop Light if he really lost control in the park.

He felt a warm hand stilling his stirring, looking down at the perfectly kept nails with some confusion.

“Relax,” Light advised. “I promised I’d work with you to solve cases like this. Besides, Mello will finally have a chance to be a kid for a change.”

L considered Light curiously. After a time, he leaned in and kissed the younger man gently. For the first time in over a fortnight, Light kissed back. L drew away, thoughts and calculations racing. What had changed? What was Light planning now?

“Nothing, L,” Light assured, and L realised he had asked the questions aloud. “We have a killer to catch, that’s all.”

It wasn’t that simple, L knew. Giving Kira a target was helpful but it wasn’t enough to change this. No, this had to have something to do with the visit to Beyond; a far more pivotal event. He had been afraid that with Kira surfacing the visit would have been harmful rather than helpful, but it seemed in this regard that this was not the case. Perhaps the validation received for Kira’s god complex had relieved some of his built-up tension. No, L considered, that wasn’t it either.

The most logical conclusion came to him suddenly, almost making him draw his hand back.

Kira had hope again; hope that he would be free of L. Beyond knew L’s name; Light was sure he would learn L’s name, too, and if he did the balance of power would shift. Light would be able to reclaim victory for himself; he could go back to killing and L could do nothing to stop him; if he tried, Light would kill him. This was why L had needed Light to want to work with him for himself, why he had pursued affectionate relationship with the younger man in the past. It seemed strange then that Light would offer that affection once more when he thought he had gained an advantage over L.

L knew there was something more; something about emotions or relationships that affected Light’s actions. He had never been overly keen on the topic, never gained much understanding of it. Fortunately, he did have someone in the house whose own experiences had led to far more invested research and learning about human interactions on an emotional level.

While Light was getting into disguise to match his FBI identification, L managed to catch a moment alone with Ryuk and Mello.

He explained what had happened with Beyond, and Light’s reactions to the same. He explained that the whole flight home, Kira had never been far from the surface. They had not spoken for the entire journey and when they arrived back at the house and Light had retired to bed, L remaining awake to go through all of Mello’s work over the preceding week. He explained the surprising hand holding and the return of response to his own advances.

By the end of L’s explanation, Mello looked sad.

“It’s all about control,” Mello explained, looking reluctant to do so. “I don’t think Light ever stopped liking you – he just didn’t like the position of power you had over him. If he thinks he’s going to get that power back, he is free to continue his affections for you, with him in control of what happens between you.”

L considered. Light was Kira; Kira could not be allowed to go on killing as he had been, could not be free to create the New World he wished to rule as a God. If Light could maintain his own control of that aspect of his life, L was surprisingly unconcerned by the thought of Light being in control of, as Mello put it, what happened between them. Indeed, the more he considered it, the more he realised he would be quite happy for Light to have that control. L knew absolutely nothing about relationships that didn’t end in murder; Light understood perfectly. He would be able to guide them through thick and thin.

He hadn’t really considered it before, but the thought of Light in control was rather delightful… Indeed, he had to rapidly curtail the track his thoughts were leading him down. He flushed, hoping Mello wouldn’t notice but knowing that he would. Thoughts of Light-Kira commanding him were very difficult to dismiss, and were beginning to elicit a physical reaction that L tried to suppress. Perhaps, he considered, that was why L reacted the way he did when the most dominant part of Light’s personality – Kira – was at the forefront.

“Mello,” L began, sure that these were not appropriate questions to be asking a fourteen-year-old boy, even one with Mello’s history and willingness to use his own sexuality as a weapon, but having no one else to turn to. “Do you think if Light had control in our relationship, he would be more or less able and willing to control Kira?”

“I think you need to stop thinking of them as two separate people,” Mello pointed out. “Light is Kira; Kira is Light. They’re equally powerful, equally dangerous, the only difference is the face they present to the world.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” L complained.

“That’s because I can’t say,” Mello admitted. “Light seems to have accepted that he should only kill people who won’t otherwise be captured by the police agencies. He’s been following your rules and not just because he has no choice any more, now that he has the notebook back. But it’s obvious he doesn’t like that he feels trapped here, even though he probably would choose to stay and investigate cases if he were free to do so.”

“It isn’t safe to give him the choice,” L argued.

“For as long as you believe that,” Mello advised. “It won’t work. You have to trust him. If you don’t… then there’s no point in a relationship. For that matter, if you’re only looking at a relationship because you want to use it to control Kira, there’s no point.”

“What should I do?”

“Think,” Mello smiled at him hopefully. “If you go for this, you’ve got to be willing to give up control. You’re right, it’s dangerous, but if you think you can trust him, it could work. You wouldn’t be just having a relationship with Light, it would be Kira, too. They’re one and the same in the end.”

“Kira is the result of the addiction to the notebook,” L justified irrationally.

“Like Light’s affection for you was the result of the addiction to the notebook as well? And the same for your draw to Kira?” Mello laughed. “Tell me, L, since you gave up that book, do you feel any different? About Light, about anything?”

“… I wouldn’t kill,” L reasoned, but it was a cover. He had been so focused on the influence the notebook had that he had missed something that should have been obvious. Yes, the notebook did influence emotions… but, if what Mello was suggesting was true, it didn’t create them from nothing. It had intensified L’s sense of justice enough to make him want to enforce it even when that meant killing; but L had always been so close to that line. Beyond had been the same, but he had stepped over it into insanity.

If that were true, Kira was an inevitability; a part of Light, perhaps exaggerated, but not separate. It was a truth that L had denied not because he believed it to be wrong, but because he had not wanted to consider the reality.

“Thank you, Mello,” L offered him a bowl of mixed chocolate chips for his troubles, which Mello accepted gladly. “You have given me a lot to think about.”

 

* * *

 

Mello’s FBI identification was rather out of date; his unburned face was not easy to mimic even with using the Wammy’s silicon wound spray to fill in the cracks and wrinkles of the burned side of his face. Ryuk helped, his claws actually proving very useful in sculpting and defining the silicon-covered features to shape, and they were all ready by eleven.

“We’ll start with Epcot, since we won’t be spending much time there,” L told them as they travelled in a huge, gas guzzling, inconspicuous tourist hire car driven by Watari, who had been instructed to stop collecting cases for Light and L after Light’s outburst over a week before and had since been available at all times of day despite not staying in the house with the team. “A simple run through security and a quick lap of the park, check that the police are in place, and away again. Ryuk, we’re not getting on any rides here – we’ll spend as long as you like in the last park once we’ve been to the first two.”

The security lines were fairly long at this time of day, the crush of sweaty bodies distasteful to all of the team. Mello rushed headlong into the crowd, managing to slip into a queue about halfway down the line, whilst L and Light joined the back of another.

“It’ll cause chaos if they find the concealment and I’m not there with the paperwork,” Light scowled at L.

“You know him as an investigator, but they’ll just see the kid,” L shrugged. “He can play it off as a very accurate replica toy until we get closer – if they even find it.”

Light was relieved when the queue he and L were in moved more quickly than Mello’s. The security seemed to be made up of metal detectors and a bag search. L pointed out to Light that this hadn’t changed since the killings started.

“I had thought they might invest in something more secure,” L complained.

It seemed he was right to be unhappy with the set up. Mello’s bag survived its search without the concealed gun being found; the one on his person (a small gun, inserted in his boot which had plenty of metal chains adorning it) activated the metal detector but upon seeing the boots had metal chains on them the official just let the teenager pass. Light, elbowed sharply in the ribs by L, went quickly to the man behind that search point.

“Would you mind stepping aside for a moment?” Light requested, flashing the FBI identification.

“Have I done something wrong?” the man looked uncomfortable, but not more so than would be expected for anyone being suddenly stopped by an FBI agent. “Is this about the DD case?”

“Do you have any information about the case?” Light asked lazily, enjoying the way the man’s eyes widened in fear.

“No! No, I don’t know anything, I swear!”

“Calm down,” Mello interrupted from behind the security officer. “You’re not a suspect, you’re just crap at your job.”

“What?” the man looked Mello over, considering the gothic outfit, the chains and crosses, the large boots and long black coat. “You! This is a set up!”

“Yes, and you fell for it,” Mello told him. “We’re with the DD investigation, and you just let me through with these.”

Mello had his guns in either hand and spun them neatly around.

“What? Oh, In the boots!”

“And the bag,” Mello slid the guns away smoothly. “They weren’t even all that well concealed; a secret pocket in the bag, a large pair of boots with the gun in the top.”

“Oh,” the security guard looked abashed. “Does that mean I’m fired?”

“It probably should,” Light confirmed. “But we have no evidence that your colleagues are any better than you at finding these things. We’re working with L to find the weaknesses in the park securities, to help us solve the case. Clearly, you’re rushed, you’re too busy to do a good job. There need to be more people and more equipment so that you can search properly.”

“Yes, I’ve always said that!” the man looked enthusiastic.

“It seems your colleague didn’t fare any better,” Light commented, seeing L coming through the barrier as well. The detective strode over. “Rue?”

L pulled out both plastic and metal skewer from the lining of his bag.

“A very poor performance,” L reported in answer to his alias. “It seems that there needs to be some re-training of the security staff.”

“What about our third?” Light checked, having not been paying attention when Ryuk had gone back and forth through the metal detector.

“It did activate, depending on phasing, but the guard simply moved off that lane and marked the detector out of order,” Mello explained having watched the detector activate when Ryuk was solid but invisible, and not activate when he was phased out.

“Umm, if I’m not fired, can I go back to work?” the guard Light had brought over requested. “That’s my boss over there and she looks pissed.”

“I’ll explain to her, go back to your post – and be more careful with your checks,” Light instructed. He glanced at L and Mello once the man was gone. “What should we do?”

“Speak with the boss, make sure more training is done on identifying concealments before staff leave tonight,” L suggested. He deferred the task to Light, who was the only one of the team dressed formally and looked the part of FBI agent despite his young age. “You can use my bag to show how the skewers used to kill the victims are likely concealed. Make sure they don’t inform the other parks of the method of concealment. This was disappointing – I hope the others are better.”

Light, his FBI identification clearing away any arguments, did as L requested whilst L and Mello took their lap of the park.

The Animal Kingdom security were less disappointing, finding both of Mello’s concealed guns but neither of L’s concealed skewers. It was beginning to be blatantly apparent how the killer was getting into the parks unchallenged.

Magic Kingdom was the third and final stop on their rounds, and where L had agreed to let Ryuk and Mello loose on the park – with a promise to bring no explosive devices and have handed over Mello’s guns before they actually went in, of course. This wasn’t much of an issue, since security removed the guns and insisted on holding on to them, though they would return them as the team were leaving. They also took the skewers from L when he revealed them.

“Rue,” Light continued to use the alias for L throughout the day, since they were working on different identification, “could we not just let those two go play and get a coffee or something?”

L tilted his head, falsifying a considering expression. “But then Mello would be without adult supervision. It’s on all the signs.”

Light was fairly certain that the signs referencing a requirement for adult supervision at all times were intended for children younger than Mello; certainly, they had not been created with a child like Mello in mind. No matter how much he protested, though, L tugged him along by the hand, following Mello and Ryuk through the express entrance to some sort of monster shooting ride in which Mello had accrued the maximum score by halfway through the ride.

“Can we go again?” Mello demanded as they stepped back out into the Florida sun. Light groaned, practically chasing the boy onwards until Ryuk got fed up of his chivvying and pushed Light into a children’s water fountain, the jet soaking his grey formal suit.

As they sat for a sugar-filled slushy drink, Light tried his best to wring the water out of his suit jacket.

“Chan,” L was using the honorific as an alias, chosen for Light’s FBI identification as it was a name that meant moon in Sanskrit, “You can relax a little, we’re not on the case now.”

Indeed, Light noticed that L was sat quite normally; or at least, as normally as he could manage with his always unusual posture.

“There’s still a killer loose,” Light argued.

“There’s always a killer loose,” L reasoned. Light figured he would have been raising an eyebrow, had he any brow to raise. “The world carries on…”

“Oh! Of course, that’s what we can do next!” Mello leapt enthusiastically from his chair, grabbing Ryuk’s arm and dragging him along. Light watched them go, wanting to warn them not to be so obvious since others couldn’t see Ryuk, but deciding that this was one place in the world where such odd behaviour wouldn’t even warrant a second glance from the crowds.

“Think he’s enjoying being a kid?” Light smiled after him.

“It’s chaotic here,” L acknowledged. “Perfect for Mello… you don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for. Now come on, we must catch up.”

Light reluctantly slipped his suit jacket into his bag, deciding that even if he managed to get it dry it was now too creased to be wearable. He trailed after L, very sure he didn’t want to know where they were heading next.

“It’s a small world after all!” Ryuk and Mello chorused on either side of L and Light as they made their way through the park ten minutes later. Light’s writing hand was twitching, his eyes increasingly red with every repetition of the song. “It’s a small world after all, it’s a small, small world!”

“When we get back to the house, I’m looking up the name and face of every person who worked on the creation of that damned ride,” he threatened, glaring at L. The detective might even have been concerned if he did not have control of Light’s access to the computers and therefore the means to look this information up.

“Oh, don’t be a spoil sport!” Mello demanded. “Can we go on one more?”

Light gritted his teeth, taking in the enthusiasm of the boy and reminding himself that Mello had never really had the opportunity to just be a kid; spending time in the supposedly best place on earth with his best (Shinigami) friend was not something he had the chance to do before and perhaps he would never get that chance again. “Oh, alright, but just one.”

Space mountain was not one of the largest roller coasters in the Florida parks; indeed, it was contained in a building and the coaster was in pitch darkness until the lights from the model planets and stars moved around them. Light relaxed a little as Mello and Ryuk shrieked their way round, causing some confusion for the ride staff when Mello threw a toddler like tantrum when they tried to seat another child beside him since they couldn’t see Ryuk. Light had to make the excuse that Mello was autistic and would not appreciate being seated with someone he didn’t know to prevent them being told to get off the ride.

At least this way they might drop the “it’s a small world” thing. It also helped that L clutched tightly at his hand the whole way around the coaster in the dark.

Light allowed Mello and his Shinigami shadow to get ahead of them in the crowd before pulling a strangely subdued L aside, studying him with concern.

“Was it the falling feeling?” he confirmed. L kept his eyes on his feet, enclosed in trainers with no socks. He nodded, sighing.

“It’s pathetic,” L sounded furious with himself.

“No,” Light argued, enclosing the detective in his arms, letting the slighter man rest his chin on his shoulder. “You should have said.”

L hummed, burying his face into Light’s neck.

“I don’t regret it,” L admitted when Light finally released him from the hug. Light frowned and then laughed.

“Were you faking that so I’d hug you?” he demanded. “You’re such a liar, Rue.”

“Of course I was,” L grinned. Light was right; he was such a liar. He had just caught the wrong lie. “Come on, we should catch up with Mello before he blows something up.”

 

* * *

 

L hovered at the door to their shared room that night, waiting for Light to fall asleep before he would enter. He was not ready to deal with being alone with the younger man; not ready to address, by his choice or Light’s, the issue of their possible return to a more civil relationship. He should pick another of the rooms, should sleep away from Light, which would solve the issue. However, he had a terrible feeling that if he did so it would be quite final, and he was not sure that he wanted it to be.

Eventually as the time passed midnight he crept through the door, pausing before going around the bed.

Light never let the Death Note go too far from his side now that he had it back; they had a safe for the thing, but unless they were going out somewhere that he absolutely could not take it, he refused to use it. L was sure it was because Light did not trust him to simply change the locking code if he got the chance.

He studied the book with contempt; true that he would likely never have met Kira if it had not been for this weapon, but if they had, things would have been so much simpler. L would have been the senior detective on a case, perhaps, and Light a young police force prodigy that L had found to assist him on some case or another – L would have researched Light, would have perhaps taken an interest in the intelligence and talent he saw. He could have brought Light into the investigation, let him work his way through until he was part of L’s team, perhaps even working alongside him…

L stopped himself, considering. There was no point in those considerations that L even thought of a possibility when he would not have controlled their every interaction; if Mello was right, that was exactly how he had to stop thinking.

Perhaps they would have met another way? If the Kira case was ongoing, but Light had not truly been Kira… L followed that train of thought to its inevitable conclusion, and reached the same point. L and Light, investigating murders side by side but never becoming anything more.

Was he just rationalising, or was this another sign that it was not just Light, but Kira that had drawn L in?

Distracting himself from the troubling thoughts, L moved silently to the notebook, opening it to the most recent page.

Still the same number of names as before; no more had been added. L was almost surprised; Light had been so calm and rational that day; as if the instinct to use the book had been quenched…

L rushed from the room, snatching up Light’s bag and the suit jacket from it. It was unlike Light to not have immediately removed the garment from the bag on returning home; it was likely ruined forever now; the blue of the bag having bled into the grey of the jacket in a way that dry cleaning would not remove. Light, who was so fastidious, would not have left the jacket in there if not for a reason.

L swiftly checked the pockets, coming up empty. He turned the jacket inside out, rummaging in the lining…

There, a slip of paper in the lining of the sleeve. A whole page from the Death Note, adorned with name after name; one for each day since Mello had arrived.

“Oh, Light,” L was tempted to screw up the paper into a ball to throw, but instead slid it back into the concealment in the sleeve. It would do no good to let Light know he knew what he was doing until he knew what he was going to do about it.


	7. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next word begins. L has to re-evaluate... several plans.

L woke curled up in Light’s arms, the younger boy holding him tightly enough that he could not simply escape before Light woke. He wanted nothing more than to worm his way out of Light’s grasp and make it appear that he hadn’t come to bed at all that night. He was afraid of the conversations that would bring, he needed more time to think… it was a wonder he had been able to sleep at all, but in the warmth of Light’s arms he had not been able to resist it.

Light greeted him with a kiss to the back of his neck as he woke.

“Good morning, L,” he purred. The act of waking wrapped up in each other’s arms had only recently stopped being awkward, with Light adjusting far more quickly than L even though L had generally been the one who woke sprawled across the younger man.

“You slept in,” L prompted bluntly, trying to shake off Light’s arm. Light, whose body clock was usually absolutely perfect, released him to snatch his watch from the nightstand. L used the opportunity to get out of the bed, gather up a set of day clothes and begin to get changed.

“It’s exactly the usual time we get up,” Light frowned at L, fastening the watch on his wrist. “You’re welcome to sleep in a different room if you aren’t comfortable with me anymore.”

“Forgive me, Light,” L widened his eyes to his most dishonestly honest look. “I must just be impatient to solve the case today, that’s all.”

Light clearly wasn’t content with the answer, but did not argue the point. He waited until L was fully dressed and leaving the room before even moving from the bed; L, knowing as he did about the page from the Note, assumed he wanted to dress alone so that he could conceal another page.

“We will be staying here today,” L told Mello. “There is nothing to be gained from the four of us going to one of the parks when we don’t even know the letter the killer will target. The police are in position, we will have to trust them. They’ll be more careful now that they’re hopefully learning from their mistakes.”

It took two hours for news to reach the correct investigators and the message to get through to L. A character was dead; they hadn’t stopped the DD murderer from killing again. However, when the name came through it was apparent why they had failed.

“It isn’t a Disney park,” Mello scowled, scrolling through the evidence the police were collecting for the killing of the Krusty the Clown actor at Universal studios.

“There was never any suggestion that the killer would have a particular reason for his targets to be Disney alone,” L acknowledged. “The probability that he would switch to other parks was always there, especially since the police actually managed to rally round and bring in more officers to guard the existing parks.”

“We don’t have enough police to guard everywhere,” Light calculated before L could explain. “It was a risk we had to take. We can narrow it down now, there can’t be that many letters that can follow K…”

He trailed off, wondering whether it was entirely narcissistic to consider the possibility that the next letter surely must be an ‘I’ for Kira. He looked to L, and from the look the detective had on his face, he had reached the same conclusion.

“Mello,” L rushed to his computers, rapidly activating the video feeds covering the correct parts of the parks. “Get police controllers on the phone; there are only two characters with the letter ‘i’ in the parks including universal; he won’t be able to wait to kill them, we’d have them too heavily guarded before he could…”

Mello hadn’t been able to call before the phone rang again. He took the call, barely speaking to the officers on the other end through gritted teeth.

As he hung up the phone, the coffee table went flying, sweets and apples scattering over the carpet. Light didn’t try to stop the boy’s rage, moving behind the kitchen counter out of the way of most flying objects to observe. L glanced up, but did not move from the computer.

“Mello,” he interrupted. “Tell them to guard the R’s then.”

Mello stilled mid-way through tearing the cushions off of L’s favourite chair, shredded soft furnishings already littering the room. Ryuk, with his long claws, continued to grin broadly as he tore the base out of the sofa, springs flying everywhere. Mello watched him for a minute, a little laugh escaping him at the Shinigami’s delight, but it was hollow. Growling, he took up the phone and dialled police control, passing on the message.

“We should have footage,” L called Light across. “The monitoring was in place for all of the Disney parks – Mello, which character?”

“Iago, the parrot,” Mello pointed to the pictures which had made their way into Light’s expansive mental map on the wall; one, the cartoon parrot from the film Aladdin, the other the Disney furry in their costume.

L worked rapidly, gathering the correct footage and playing a different tape on every screen, fast forward from the start of the day. Light tried to follow as many of the screens as he could, but L with his wide eyes seemed to be taking them in all at once. His hand grasped at the empty table top in front of him as if searching for a sweet; Light, realising his own surveillance of the screens was not needed with L watching, gathered some of the wrapped sweets from where Mello’s destruction had scattered them and placed them in L’s reach. The detective didn’t react at all other than to unwrap a hard candy and place it into his mouth.

“The footage ends there,” L scowled as the parrot actor walked into a building. “Why are there no cameras in that building? Mello, contact the police, tell them to get everyone out of there – we will do our own investigation.”

Mello, who had returned to helping the Shinigami shred the sofa into the smallest pieces possible, reluctantly made the call, but soon put the investigators on hold.

“Near’s already there,” he told L warily. The detective spun his chair, unblinking eyes fixing on the handset Mello was holding. “He says he’s sending something through to… help you catch up.”

Light had never seen L’s eyes narrow in anger before, even when faced with Kira. It actually wasn’t a good look on the detective; worse than his creepy grins. L was never angry; bored, yes, frustrated at most – this was different. For a moment he looked a little more like Beyond; it was unnerving.

L watched the file automatically open on his computer screen. It was a forensic report from the Oliver character’s death, one of the reports Near had “commandeered” after Mello had been out into the field and led the crime scene testing in person. Each page of the report had its own screen, and every page was showing; they were out of a conventional order, but L worked from the centre and out in an anticlockwise manner, following the correct sequence of pages automatically.

Light was quick to catch up, disappointed to find no DNA, fingerprints or fibres in the report. He was about to comment on the uselessness of this evidence to L when he realised the detective’s always pale complexion had faded further.

“We have to close down the parks,” L spoke slowly, his bored tone masking something; Light was not sure whether it was fear or anger.

“What?” Mello demanded, chomping at the bit for a fight. “We can’t do that, the killer would only stop until we said they could re-open! He could just relocate to another area, another set of parks, we can’t stop until we catch him.”

“Mello,” L continued to sound cautious. “The percentage that Near is involved just increased to forty-nine percent.”

Mello drew his gun from his waist and shot straight through L’s closest computer monitor. Ryuk’s laughter wasn’t enough to overwhelm the outraged shriek coming from Mello.

“This isn’t fucking Near!” the boy yelled, firing another shot into the wall behind L, the bullet millimetres from his ear. “Near wouldn’t do this! He’s not a killer! You’re just angry that he’s beating you.”

“Mello,” L reasoned. “Calm yourself and look at the forensics report.”

One more shot rang out before Mello’s rage was contained, but barely so. The boy strode to the screens, having to scroll through the pages with one taken out of action with his bullet. The further through the report he got, the more the tension froze his frame.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Mello snapped at L.

“Make a call,” L advised. “Tell them to check the lightbulbs, if you doubt it.”

“Care to explain?” Light asked as Mello tore across the room back to the phone, upending a standing lamp in the process. Ryuk, chuckling, upturned a potted plant onto the growing mess. L looked round at him, a surprised and frustrated look in his eyes.

“Beyond Birthday,” L explained simply. “When he committed his crimes, he left no forensic evidence – he wiped down every surface, even the walls – even the lightbulbs.”

“Why would he bother with that? Surely that would just be stranger, if there were no fingerprints from anyone else anywhere? What’s the point of wiping down light bulbs… except, as a signature?” Light postulated. “So, if the lightbulbs have no fingerprints on them, we know whoever is killing was either in contact with or inspired by the BB case.”

“He chose DD rather than BB,” L nodded. “Logically, this makes Near more of a suspect. Beyond was not the first candidate to be my successor – working through, there have been A, B, M and N. Near is the fourth – if the alphabet were followed, D would be his letter. So, I have to raise his percentage again for that. That is after raising his percentage for the evidence being wiped in the first place – the intricacies of BB’s case were not well publicised, so it has to at least be someone from LA or FBI law enforcement, or someone who has come into contact with BB or Wammy’s in the past. That narrows the pool of suspects, and also contains Near. Not to mention, Near withheld this evidence until now – slowing down our ability to stop the killer.

“The lightbulbs have been wiped,” Mello interrupted. Light looked round at the boy, startled by the change in his tone; the anger was gone, replaced by sadness and betrayal. He looked… lost. “L, what do we do?”

“We stop,” L closed down the computer screens, moving from the seat there to his perch in the one sitting room chair that had not been destroyed. “We consider our options, and we make a proper plan – without distractions.”

Light frowned at the glare the detective shot his way; nothing he was doing was at all distracting. He’d been keeping very quiet over the last few days unless L asked his opinion specifically; his focus on other more personal matters, like getting L’s name from Beyond and how best to use it. He supposed L could mean the time he spent sleeping; Light hadn’t exactly dragged L into the bed each night, but he knew how little L slept before he had been chained together with the detective and knew he had changed that pattern.

He did not have enough information about the BB case, if this was truly inspired by the mad mirror of L, to be effective in assisting L with his calculations. This was a task for the world’s greatest detective, and Light was more than willing to stand back and allow him to work. The process was fascinating; every once in a while, the silence would be broken with a question or a check to confirm something L was thinking, and Light would be able to laboriously make the connections and follow his thought process. If he tried to get involved, no matter how intelligent he himself was, he would only slow him down.

“I’ll be Watari,” Light offered, and then didn’t speak for several hours, providing L with a steady stream of sweet foods to fuel his thoughts.

“Our options are limited,” L concluded early on. “In terms of actions we can take tomorrow, we can limit the number of R characters available to just one; that way we can guard them closely, with the full police presence focused on just that one, giving us the best chance of catching the killer. That way Mello can also stay close to the R character, and the killer will have a difficult time of deceiving him even if he manages to get past the police.”

However, L’s deductions didn’t stop there but continued long in to the evening, ignoring Mello’s telephone calls to the police to make the arrangements, ignoring it when Mello and Ryuk gathered every bit of rubble from the shredded living room and arranged it into a burn pit outside, ignored the smell of gasoline and assorted other accelerants and ignored the roaring flames that Ryuk and Mello delighted in toying with the colour of by throwing different chemicals into the fire. He ignored when Mello stole his marshmallows to torch over the flame (Light did try to tell him that the chemicals surely made the fire unsuitable for torching anything edible, but Mello unexpectedly spouted an explanation of chemical reactions and the stability of the compounds created by the chemicals he had thrown into the fire, showing a little of the genius intellect that was so often hidden by his brash nature). He gave no acknowledgement to Light’s freshly baked white chocolate and strawberry cookies, though he did eat them, and did not comment when Mello stole half the plate full and demanded Light make apple cookies for Ryuk.

When L next moved, it was in a rush; he had been so distracted by his calculations that he had not used the bathroom in nine hours, after all. Light waited patiently for L’s return, for an answer to what L’s deductions had revealed, but L did not give him one; he returned to the room, took up his perch again, and continued reasoning.

As it got closer to midnight, L rose from the chair again, several of his joints cracking in protest.

“You should go to bed, Light,” L told him softly. “I’ll join you if I’m going to sleep tonight.”

“I could stay,” Light offered. He was keen to stay; this was L, as Light had first known him; the world’s greatest detective doing what he did best. He was confident that whatever L was deducing would be a brilliant insight into the case; perhaps even solve it.

“You should get your sleep,” L repeated, his wide eyes unblinking as they impressed the instruction onto the younger man. Light scowled; so L didn’t want him here. He’d been nothing but helpful – what on earth had he done to distract him?

“Alright,” his tone was easy and accepting, but he was angry; at himself for not knowing what the problem was; at L for rejecting his presence and assistance.

 

* * *

 

L had made many deductions about the case.

He would need to spend time cross-referencing visitors of the park with those who had ever been tasked with visiting Beyond or handling him in any capacity. Beyond’s control could be insidious, could surface years later rather than presenting as insanity immediately. In the best-case scenario, Near could be separate from this case; could just be investigating it like L and withholding evidence just to hold the advantage over L. If that were true, the killer had to have some connection to Beyond. All the guards, psychiatrists and other professionals tasked with Beyond’s care or interviews since he had been moved out of the general prison population were either dead, institutionalised or as good as the same. However, there were many who had been general prison guards when Beyond had spent his brief time in the general prison population, or his initial stint in solitary confinement. These would be the suspects in the case.

The question was whether Near was in the middle; a conduit between Beyond’s ideas of the perfect crime and the killer. Either way, catching the killer should reveal the same; but if Near were involved it would be even harder to succeed and if it looked like they would Near would just step in and snatch victory from under their nose.

He had made these deductions rather quickly, even though he dug into them far more deeply than he perhaps needed to. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, wasn’t being distracted from the truth or influenced by any emotions related to Near.

The rest of the time, he allowed himself to be distracted.

It was rare now that Light was always around that he had the opportunity to think uninterrupted for such a long time and with such ready supply of sweets to fuel those thoughts.

Unseen by Light, who was too busy baking cookies, L rubbed at the bracelets around his wrists, the only thing that stood between him and forgetting everything to do with the notebooks and, logically, about Light being Kira.

L had been distracted. He had been experiencing emotional responses greater than any he had before; these were not conducive to thinking clearly and he was quite certain were reducing his deductive power in this case by 30%. Worse, with thought to Kira, the emotional reactions were reducing his deductive power even more – by about 40%.

He needed this time to consider exactly what he was going to do about Kira’s excessive use of the Notebook; until he had worked out what he was going to do about that, he would remain distracted from the case, and Near would continue to have the advantage.

The whole situation was a mess. The answer was simple; obvious, even. Light had been given a very clear set of rules to follow. He had been given a chance to prove that he was more than just Kira; more than a serial killer. He had broken those rules, and now the only truly correct answer was to apply the only punishment that should be afforded to a serial killer; he should capture Light, charge him as Kira, and he would be swiftly and neatly executed. It was a clean and rational solution, and L’s deductive abilities should also return to 100% of their normal as soon as he adjusted to the fleeting mimic of grief that he would likely experience from the death of Light, one of very few he had ever considered to be a friend.

However, like with Beyond, L could not simply kill Light. He would have to find another solution; and that was where things became complicated.

First, he had to consider what he actually thought about what Light was doing; then he would have to be rational and work out how he would respond.

When he had set out to catch Kira things were so simple; compared to how they were now at least. None of his emotions mattered to him. Kira was a serial killer, and he was to be stopped. He hadn’t counted on the man behind Kira being so interesting… on Kira being so interesting. Light Yagami and the Notebooks had blurred the lines between the detective and the killer until there was no clear distinction. L was a killer now too; he could hardly hold a moral high ground over Kira there. But Kira was in a whole other level where killing was concerned.

L understood, from a utilitarian basis, why Kira killing the criminals who would otherwise go on to killing more people was valuable. He was happy enough with the concept of an eye for an eye and striking while the iron was hot; happy enough to attack to stop an innocent person from dying. Kira was more direct about it, but now that he was only killing those who would end another life if left alive, L could not rationalise away the simple fact that trading one death for another was somewhat equitable, and that many would argue the criminal was the one with less value.

What’s more, L had never been in protest to the death penalty. He had, in many cases, gladly waved away killers to their deaths (sometimes quite literally). Kira’s method of killing was debatably quicker and less painless than a lethal injection and held none of the distress of the long wait through the fruitless appeals process for the guilty. Did it matter that Light was the one who enacted the sentence, in that case?

If not that, then why did he recoil so from the increase in deaths? All the people Kira killed were from approved cases, cases that L was 100% certain of the perpetrator and 100% certain they would not be caught by any means until they struck again. It was only the rate of killing that had changed.

Perhaps he was worried that the frequency of killings would be conspicuous? Perhaps it would be enough to confirm to the world that L was working with Kira now, as was the rumour. Perhaps they would think Kira was in control. What would happen, if they worked it out?

It could go two ways. In the first, the anti-Kira movements could take centre stage and destroy the fragile balance L had been trying to create around himself and Light. They would certainly stop L from continuing as a detective, and he would quite possibly go mad if he couldn’t keep his mind busy. Worse, with the world against them, L and Light might both be simply killed.

Second, the pro-Kira supporters could win the day, and Light’s darkest aspects would be fuelled and fed by the calls of the adoring masses. Kira would rise, his God complex would reign and if he even chose to keep L around, L would be nothing but a slave or a pet. Kira would rule supreme, the addiction to killing running out of control, his killings stretching to every petty criminal trying to survive in a hostile world. It would be exactly what L had been trying to prevent when he had started his investigation, but worse – L would be unable to avoid being involved, and if Kira got his name from BB, he would be unable to stop him.

What, then, if the world didn’t notice the return of Kira? The killings didn’t match his previous MO, didn’t strike down criminals in prisons. Whilst the pattern of killings would be obvious to L and Near, it was entirely possible that one extra heart attack in the world each day, no matter how suspicious the circumstances, would not even scratch the surface of the awareness of most people. It would be difficult to spot a pattern in heart attacks, difficult to point to Kira as a cause.

If that happened, there was little threat from the outside world. The danger came from within; Light could still loose control, one kill daily growing to two and then more until it resulted in the same thing; Kira, the avenging God.

If L let this go, if he pretended to be ignorant, no matter which way he turned he could only see death and destruction. He _had_ to confront Light about this.

Not to mention, if L pretended to be ignorant, and Light believed it, it would be a terrible thing. If Light thought he could get away with the killings right under L’s nose, without the world’s greatest detective catching him red handed, he would lose all respect for L. He would take control, or worse – he would lose interest, and leave. Such a foolish detective would not hold the interest of Light Yagami for very long.

The thought triggered a pain in L’s chest, sore enough that for a moment his straying thoughts considered a 2% probability of a notebook – initiated heart attack.

So, since he had to tell Light that he knew, how should he proceed?

On the one hand, he had a big role to play by giving Light too much temptation, too many cases. How was Kira meant to resist so many names and faces of killers at his fingertips, his sense of justice calling to him to save the innocents who would die if he didn’t act? L couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault for Light’s loss of control.

However, he couldn’t just apologise and let Light continue unhindered, either. If he did, Light could spiral – free in the knowledge that L knew exactly what he was doing and still wasn’t stopping him. He could unleash a killing spree on massive scale.

L could always tell him that he knew, but not apologise. He could leave the threat hanging; present himself as emotionless and optionless about the matter and see what happened. What incentive would that give Light to ever resist the Note’s pull?

Or, he could try to stop Light. He could try just to tell him to stop, for all the good that would do. If he tried to take the Notebook from Kira’s possession, he would run the risk of Light hating him even more if ever he lost possession of it again – the control it would give him, plus the induced Stockholm syndrome. These would cement the fate of any potential relationship they could ever have together. He could try to do the thing Watari always tried with him – people called it “mothering” generally, but Watari was male so L called it “fathering” – and show Light just how disappointed he was in him, try to make him feel guilty that way?

Or, he could be honest. Honesty wasn’t something he usually had much faith in, wasn’t something he used frequently when faced with a problem such as this.

Mello was right; it came down to some combination of trust and control. Could he put his cards on the table and trust Light and Kira – Light-Kira, one person, two sides of the coin - to make a choice he could accept? What back up plan could he formulate for if he betrayed that trust?

 

* * *

 

Light was soundly sleeping in the early hours of the morning when L finally made his decision and retrieved the paper from the secret pocket of Light’s jacket. L perched himself on his side of the bed, not in his deductive crouch but nearly so; lifted onto the balls of his feet and in a more accurate balance, coiled to strike a kick if required.

“Light-Kira,” L spoke in his normal voice, noting that the younger man was not so deeply asleep as usual; Light was restless that night, turned over in tangled bed covers, his arm coming to rest around L’s pillows – missing L beside him, the detective deduced. He steeled himself; now was not the time to allow those emotions he was so unfamiliar with to take over. “You have some explaining to do.”

Light scowled, not bothering to open his eyes for a few seconds as he shook away a dream and tried to work out which words came from his dream and which from the real L perched beside him. As his eyes slowly opened, L allowed the page to flutter to the bed, released from where it was pinched between his long fingers. Light’s gaze followed its movements; he didn’t panic, of course, just watched with a small, dark smile. L waited for a reaction, but he wasn’t going to get one; Light was also waiting, the tension that barely showed itself in his still-sprawled body revealing that he was prepared for a fight.

“Do you have anything to say in your defence?” L asked, accusing.

“Everything I would have to say has already crossed your mind,” Light did move then, sitting up and wiping groggy eyes; it was a rare occasion when L would see him looking less than perfect, still with sleep in his eyes and hair far more messy than usual due to his restless sleep. “And more besides that, I’m sure. Skip to the point, L, what do you think you can do about it?”

L held still, studying Light’s eyes for some clue and if he was honest with himself some sign that these killings represented a loss of control, but it was Light that looked back at him, not the blood red of Kira. Light, in control and not at all distressed by these killings. As he looked, searched for some sign of madness, of a split between Light and Kira and found nothing, he was finally forced to accept that there was truly no difference; Light Yagami was Kira, in an entirely different way than he had accepted before, and worse, he would not betray either of them by turning them in to be executed.

“Nothing,” L shrugged, casual. Light’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” L repeated. “I would like to make some… recommendations, perhaps, but whether you follow them will be your choice.”

“And if I don’t, what then? If I don’t follow the recommendations will you send me to prison? A cell like Beyond’s?”

“I would hope it would not come to that,” L shrugged. “But whether you follow my requests or not, that alone would not be enough for me to imprison you.”

“Why?” Light looked suspicious. Of course he did, L thought, he was making no sense again. Some days he was fairly sure half of what he said was complete nonsense.

“You told me yourself that I had given you too much temptation. I’m sorry,” L was genuine when he apologised. It was rare that those words ever passed his lips with any feeling, but on this occasion, he poured his guilt into them; willing Light to understand. “You should not be harmed for my mistake. Would you listen to my recommendations?”

Light-Kira sank back into the pillows, considering L with that same suspicious expression. L didn’t blame him; he had a plan, even if it was an unusual one.

“If you must kill so frequently, you need to change the method of death,” L suggested. “It isn’t much of a pattern to the untrained eye, but there is still a chance that someone will suspect, particularly from law enforcement. In addition, you should not hide this from me. I need to know what you’re doing, Light, if we’re going to work together. If I’m going to trust you, you have to trust me with this too. An eye for an eye.”

“That’s not quite what that phrase refers to,” Light corrected L’s use of the idiom, a small smile twitching beneath his still suspicious eyes. L shrugged, continuing.

“Watari will stop searching for cases for us. We will wait until we are called in through Interpol, unless we get completely bored. Smaller requests for cases will still be taken, but we won’t actively seek them out any more to get the numbers we’ve had in the last month. In return, there will no longer be a restriction on how often you can use the Notebook; so long as you continue to use it only on cases we agree on.”

Light was still watching him, waiting for the bomb to drop; for L to come up with a rule with which he could not comply. L fell silent, observing Light’s response carefully, still wary about the risk he was taking.

When Light did not respond, L removed the condemning sheet of Note paper from the bed, setting it on his bedside table. He moved from his crouch onto his knees and would have progressed to lay down beside Light for sleep, but the younger man moved first, capturing his lips in a kiss and trapping him with a hand behind the back of his neck. L didn’t resist, didn’t try to take control of the kiss, letting Light kiss him, letting the younger man dominate.

Light drew away sharply, suspicion and now anger blazing in still-brown eyes. L almost tried to follow, tried to seek more contact, but stopped himself. He settled down into the pillows, giving Light space.

It felt weak, to trust Light with this; to put the ball in his court and wait for his next move, when he should simply have pressed his advantage, put him back in handcuffs, dragged him off to prison… He should, but he could not. He had fallen into his own trap, and now he had to trust; trust Mello’s advice, trust Light Yagami – Kira.

If he were to be honest, as he so rarely was, he would also have to admit that it felt rather good to let go.

_It’s up to you now, Light-Kira, show me who I’ve really fallen for._


	8. Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kira tests whether L is as good as his word, the DD murder does whatever it takes to kill despite the work of the team; Mello loses his patience with L's plans

Watari had replaced the living room furniture overnight, giving Mello a place to lounge with Ryuk and feed the Shinigami chocolate covered apple slices. From there he was able to watch suspiciously as L made a point of ignoring Light throughout breakfast. The younger man had brought the Death Note with him to the meal that morning; it was never far from his side, but today he set it open at the most recent page, a pen laid in the centre fold.

“Shouldn’t we be getting ready?” Mello prompted though he made no move to do so himself, not willing to leave whilst the obvious threat of the Notebook remained poised for use.

“Watari has an outfit for you in you closet,” L told him, stirring the cream and strawberries around on top of his cinnamon waffles. “Today’s the start of the October Halloween parades, so there will be a lot of new actors; you’ll fit right in.”

“What about you?” and Kira, Mello wanted to add, but didn’t as Light was still patiently eating his cereal as if there was nothing wrong with the entire scenario. He was concerned that if he mentioned Light or the Note directly it would trigger… whatever Light was doing.

“Light-Kira and I will be staying here,” L seemed to have no similar compunction, almost goading with use of the name as an honorific. Light’s lips curled into a slight smile, but that was the only sign he gave that he was even listening. “We will be watching through the cameras. You will be our man on the ground. Remember, I do not usually make a habit of field work.”

L finally picked up a strawberry between two long fingers and popped it into his mouth.

“Even if Near could be involved?” Mello wondered how exactly L was planning to handle this; he had made his own calculations, he was not simple. However, he was somewhat biased towards Near and he would not consider his own judgements to be fair in this case.

“If Near is involved, and remember it is still only forty-eight percent,”

“Forty-nine,” Light chipped in, glancing up from his food at L. “That’s what you said yesterday.”

“Forty-eight,” L repeated. He shifted his gaze pointedly to Mello, “My calculations rarely consider trust.”

Mello blinked, careful not to let any other sign of emotion or understanding show. L was not only considering Mello’s trust in Near in his calculations (albeit only for 1%, which was a poor estimation of Mello’s judge of character), he was telling him to trust Light with whatever he was doing with the Notebook. Mello wanted to protest, wanted to point out that this was definitely not what he had meant when he had suggested that L trust Light, but held his silence under L’s unblinking gaze.

“If Near is involved, he will not be in the field either,” L spoke again once he was sure Mello would not speak up. “He would be navigating the moves of the killer, but he would do so from a distance, using him like a puppet on strings.”

“You really don’t think much of Near, do you?” Mello challenged, tossing a whole apple at L’s head. Before L could do anything to prevent the apple from hitting him, Light’s hand had shot out and snatched the apple from the air before it could collide. L followed the arm back to Light, where the younger boy shrugged and took a bite of the apple.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Ryuk protested, phasing out so that Mello fell through him and rushing Light.

“Mello,” Kira’s blood-tinted eyes followed the Shinigami’s frantic approach with distain. “Control your pet.”

“Light!” L gasped, snatching the apple from his hand and tossing it to Ryuk in an attempt to console him. The Shinigami caught it, but had fallen still, a vicious grin spreading across his joker face.

“Do not forget, your death belongs to me, Kira,” Ryuk warned, his free hand brushing the pocket that contained his own Death Note. Light’s perfect posture didn’t change, confident in his safety.

“Ryuk…” L spoke cautiously, trailing off as Mello interrupted.

“You’re not my pet, Ryuk, but if you would step away and let L deal with Kira I would appreciate it my friend,” Mello’s tone was nearly as wary as L’s but still did not match his usual bravado. Ryuk, reluctantly, did withdraw with Mello to Mello’s room.

“That was foolish, Light-Kira,” L scolded, nonchalantly swiping up some whipped cream and another strawberry. “You should take out your frustrations on a safer target.”

Kira grinned back at him, picking up the Notebook from the table.

“Who should I pick today then, L?” he asked, poising the pen over the page. “You want to work together, now’s your chance.”

“If you mean to shock me, it isn’t working,” L sighed, bored at the predictability of Kira’s taunting. It wold have been too much to expect the man to just take his word for truth and expect that he wouldn’t try to stop him. “The Australian child murderer would be the best choice if you want to come up with something vaguely inventive and bloody.”

“But unlikely to make the news here,” Kira reasoned, tapping at the page with the pen. Of course, Kira would make sure L could see what he was permitting, what he was agreeing to. Also predictable, although L had hoped he would avoid this. “The Georgia case should suffice, don’t you think?”

“Two perpetrators,” L reminded Light, recalling the file; two men who had been travelling the state since Kira’s frequent killings had stopped, attacking women across the state, leaving some alive but badly scarred and others dead.

“One each, if you would like?” Kira offered out the Notebook, only to be glared at by L. “No? Pity.”

The scratch of his pen on the page was loud in the otherwise silent room. L reminded himself that this was meant to shock him; meant to prove that he was lying the night before. With Kira’s blood red eyes focusing on him as soon as the names were written, L’s calculations whirled, his logic screaming that this was a terrible plan, that Kira would take his weakness and laugh at him, use him to take over the new world. This was bad; Watari would not be pleased.

There was only one outcome L would accept, the others all equally bad; he had to trust that this would work out.

If it didn’t, the outcome would only be the same anyway; Light would have to be stopped, one way or another.

Instead of speaking any further about the Notebook, L selected another strawberry and offered it to Light’s lips.

“Would Light-Kira like one?”

Light blinked, the redness settling slowly though the distrust in his gaze remained. Declining the strawberry, he set the Notebook aside and finished his own breakfast.

L couldn’t turn this into a fight or a challenge; there could be no winning or losing in this. Kira hated to lose and he would delight in a victory. L had given him the win this round; now he had to take both out of the equation.

 

* * *

 

Mello wondered why L hadn’t told the park to cancel the parade. The sheer number of people moving around in the tunnels beneath Magic Kingdom, designed to allow the staff of the park to move around when they needed to avoid the crowds, made it almost impossible for even him to keep track of the employees. There were hundreds; some costumed and others uniformed, most of the outfits needing at least one extra pair of hands to dress, not to mention all of the staff required to operate the floats that were used for the parade. On the surface police checked the identification of every person to enter the tunnels, and Mello had made sure every single opening was covered by at least one officer before he had descended into the subterranean world himself.

Mello had made it clear to L that if he were doing field work he needed to be able to move freely and manoeuvre his way out of tight situations; his outfit had required less assistance than that of the others. The billowing sleeves allowed him to hide several weapons; the skirts allowing others to be strapped to his legs. The red band around his waist held a sword in full view; part of the costume, for Mulan, and also very real, for Mello. The pins that held the dark wig in place itched at this scalp and if anyone tried to remove it he was sure he would lose a few clumps of hair, but otherwise L had chosen the role he was to play well.

The brave old man who had agreed to still perform as Rafiki was the only character in the parade whose name was to begin with the letter R. The characters with that letter had been pulled from all the other parks as well; both Disney and Universal. Protecting him alone had become the entire focus of Mello’s operation today; L was confident that the killer would not break his pattern and would not miss a day or skip a letter in his message. If they could stop this kill, the murderer would be angry, perhaps even reckless, and perhaps he would make a mistake.

“We need to get you into the safety harness,” one of the assistants was telling Mello as he continued to focus on Todd Coben, the man who would be dressed as Rafiki. Todd was the oldest employee of the park, in his mid-seventies and well past retirement age but after decades as a real estate agent he had retired to a life where he could work solely to make children happy; he was much loved by the other employees of the park and they clearly recognised the risk he was taking that day, if the pile of chocolates and other assorted treats was anything to go by. Mello wistfully admired the more delicious selections of chocolate, set aside by the man who likely had an unsettled stomach from the thought that this might be his last meal.

“Of course,” Mello didn’t take his eyes off of Todd as the assistant fitted the harness. From where he would be, atop a tall wooden pole as the soldiers had to climb in the movie of his character, he would have a bird’s eye view of Todd, who as Rafiki would be located on the same float and at the top of a replica of pride rock, lifting an animatronic lion cub to greet its first sunrise. He would also be able to see two or three floats distance ahead and behind at all times; again, Mello appreciated L’s choice of costume for its tactical advantage. All he would have to do, for the entire parade until the killer showed up, was smile a little and wave at the crowds from atop his perch.

He would be at a long range from the killer, if he showed himself, but he had both his guns and exceptional aim.

“Todd, Marshall,” the parade coordinator called them to their float, using Mello’s alias; he would need to have words with L; he had destroyed whole rooms at Wammy’s when others had called him Marshmallow in the past. Perhaps it was a sign that he was mature now that he had only scowled at L when the detective had handed him the false identification for the day.

It did help that Ryuk had squirted whipped cream into L’s hair before Mello had the chance to get angry, of course. And when he managed to complete the look with a whipped cream monobrow and moustache. It had helped even more when Light, in response to L’s protests, had taken a cherry from L’s plate and placed it on the detective’s head.

“We usually just lift Winny with the harness,” the float coordinator told Mello, who was eyeing the repurposed telegraph pole like a challenge to complete. Mello growled at him, taking the red band from around his waist and looping it around the post. The harness rope drew almost taunt but whoever was controlling it was clearly curious enough to let Mello do this alone.

“You’ll give yourself away if the killer is watching,” Light warned through Mello’s earpiece. He started, expecting L’s voice in his ear as usual.

“Where’s L?” he asked suspiciously, pausing whilst still at ground level. The float coordinator was too far away to hear his softly spoken words.

“Being an arsehole,” was Light’s only answer. “It’s just me here. Trust me?”

“If I must,” Mello made his tone relaxed, but it was an effort. Where _was_ L?

“The parade’s due to start in five minutes. If you have to show off, do it quickly,” Light warned him, the earpiece buzzing slightly as he disconnected the audio from his end.

“I’ll show you showing off,” Mello grumbled, taking a last check on Rafiki before drawing the band tight around the pole and beginning his ascent.

“You could get rid of that silly harness,” Ryuk’s voice rumbled behind him. Mello slid down the post about a foot before he caught himself, looking round at the Shinigami, startled.

“Why aren’t you at the house with Light?”

“The rules on that are a bit grey,” Ryuk looked a little guilty. “So long as I’m not away too long and I know where he is at all times, there’s nothing to stop me.”

“Were you worried about me?” Mello laughed fondly.

“Hey, you can look after yourself kid, I’m just here for the show,” Ryuk huffed, flapping to the top of the tall post. Mello was over halfway up but his arms were tiring. “The ape is still on his own on the rock.”

“Thanks, Ryuk, keep an eye on him till I get to the top, won’t you?” Mello requested, stopping his frequent glances at Todd to focus on his climbing.

Mello had only just reached the top and connected his harness to its safety connectors when the float began to move, the front of the parade already out in the main street through the park. At the front were the original classic Disney characters including the iconic mouse, so the music that started up around the float befitted those characters.

There was still no sign of anyone out of place around the float; Mello was beginning to wonder whether there was a possibility that the killer could fire his skewer as a projectile from the crowd, and took time to look over as many as he could, but there were thousands of faces out there; it was impossible for him to identify a suspect unless they had a weapon drawn; he could not see one.

His eyes settled back on Todd as the float began to move out into the street. Absently Mello began to wave, plastering a smile in place and facing out towards the crowd.

“Is he okay?” Light’s voice asked in his ear.

Below on the rock, Todd had dropped the animatronic lion cub and seemed to be swaying slightly. His strength seemed to fail him and his legs gave way, causing him to fall to his hands and knees. Mello could only resign himself to the idea that Todd was clearly dying and store his fury for later; he had a job to do, after all.

There was no one on the float who had been anywhere near Todd; no one who could have stabbed him in the back with a skewer other than the one who had helped him dress downstairs and Mello was absolutely certain that he had not been hurt then. Mello studied the faces in the crowd, struggling to find anyone who looked even the slightest bit suspicious.

There was nothing; this was useless!

“Cover the A’s,” was all Mello fed back to Light, looking to Ryuk to steady his fall as he leapt from the top of the post, severing the rope that connected to his harness with a swipe of his sword. Ryuk caught him moments before landing, opening wings to slow his descent enough to let him land at a run, tearing to the next float and again supporting him as he leapt the too-long distance across to the float bearing the Mad Hatter’s tea party, landing as Todd Coben – Rafiki finally collapsed to his knees and then fell from the float, the parade halting with a screech and hiss of air brakes.

“Alice,” Mello snatched the actress whose name he didn’t know from her seat at the tea party, her blue costume dress snagging on the chair and forcing her to trip as he pulled her along with him to the front of the same float, where…

The actress that had been playing Ariel was already bleeding when he arrived, the deep red blood pooling slowly in the gigantic sea shell display. Her eyes were wide, a scream silent on her lips as she understood what was happening to her.

“Put pressure on the wound,” Mello commanded, shoving the red waist band into the hands of the Alice actress. “Ariel, lay on your front, let gravity help us stop the blood flow.”

The costumed mermaid followed the tone of authority even through her panic, moving onto her front as they desperately tried to stop the bleeding.

“Light, a little help here?” Mello demanded. “Where the fuck is L?”

“In the park,” Light told him bluntly. “Mello, what you are doing is admirable but the angle of the wound… you must already know…”

“No!” Mello shouted, snarling. There had to be a way.

“It’s punctured her aorta and her oesophagus,” Light spoke very calmly, as if he were trying to explain something simple to a small child. “Right now most of the blood is going into her stomach; soon it will be overwhelmed and she will vomit the rest and she will die. There is no way to get her to the hospital in time. It would be kinder to let her go rather than make her suffer.”

“You sound like fucking Near,” Mello growled, tempted to remove the ear piece but not doing so, fighting hard to remain professional in the hope he could claw something good out of this. In desperation he turned to Ryuk “Are you going to be any help?”

“Don’t eat Rafiki’s chocolate,” Ryuk recommended lowly from where he hovered in the shadows.

Mello’s eyes widened. He had wanted a way to save Ariel, but if there was truly no way, and if Mello was right, he had to get back into the tunnels before anyone else could either eat or retrieve the poisoned treats.

“Todd was killed with poison,” Mello passed on to Light, racing away from the two women and diving off the side of the float, his landing supported by Ryuk.

“You’re lucky I’m here to catch you, Akane,” the Shinigami complained as Mello very nearly landed face first on the ground.

“I’ll get you more apples later,” Mello quickly promised back, racing for the nearest building with an entrance to the subterranean passageways. The Shinigami followed behind him, phasing through the crowd whilst Mello had to force his way through.

“I’m fine for apples, Akane, just get yourself home safe,” Ryuk commanded; Mello could not afford to pause though shock shook him and made him stumble. He threw himself through the door of the coffee shop and through the back, descending into the tunnels.

“Have a gun ready, not a sword,” Light prompted in his ear. “If you run into the killer you need to get him before he gets close.”

Mello didn’t fully obey, keeping the sword in his dominant hand but taking a gun out with his other, since he could fire equally well with either. He tore through the last passageway and burst into the changing room.

“Relax, Mello,” L’s level tone stilled his rush. “The samples have been sent to the forensic examiner.”

“What?” Mello could only stare at the detective, who was slouched in his usual posture with his hands in his pockets, avoiding Mello’s eyes. “What are you doing here? Did you know?”

“Of course,” L shrugged. “The killer wouldn’t be able to use his usual methods with you watching. He would have to adapt at the last minute; make a mistake.”

“He killed two people because you didn’t tell me!” Mello raged, snatching a chair and throwing it at L’s head. The detective ducked to one side, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked up at Mello.

“It was necessary. There is a 92% chance that we will be able to pull forensic evidence from the chocolate box,” L quoted the figure as a rational reason to allow the death of two more people; Mello couldn’t stomach it and threw the sword this time. L barely avoided the blade as it flew straight where his neck had been only a moment before. “Would you like me to leave you to calm down?”

“I’m not going to fucking calm down,” Mello snarled at him.

“It’s collateral damage, Mello,” L sighed. “Regrettable, true, but necessary. You are familiar with this?”

Mello wasn’t thinking rationally, but even through that he could recognise how hypocritical he was with this. Sometimes collateral damage was unavoidable; he understood that as well as most Wammy’s graduates. Like in a chess game, for the game to be won sometimes the pawns had to fall.

Mello understood it, but he had somehow not thought L would be so happy with the concept. L; the perfect figurehead, the target that they all had to aim for, was supposed to be able to solve any case from behind his computer screen, at least where supernatural intervention and murder notebooks were not involved.

He wasn’t supposed to _need_ collateral damage. He certainly wasn’t supposed to _build a plan_ around it.

“Leave,” Mello ordered the detective. L shrugged and left Mello alone, locking the only remaining exit to the room behind him.

“Don’t let him out till he calms down,” L requested of the Shinigami he had brought with him. Ryuk glared, baring needle point teeth, but on hearing the crashes from inside the room he moved instead to phase through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disappointed to say on my research for this chapter that Disney hardly ever do these parades any more. However, back in 2004 they did them more often, especially for special events such as Halloween.


	9. Collateral damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arguments; Kira's version of morality; L's insecurities.

Light had been left alone in the house for most of the day, told L’s plan only through the ear piece once both L and Mello had left for the day.

He couldn’t help that this was wrong; had L himself not scolded Near for risking less collateral damage when they were trying to catch the arsonist, and yet now, L would accept the certain death of at least one and now two further victims just for the chance to get some forensic evidence that might point them in the right direction.

Mello had arrived back before dark, having been released from his entrapment by Ryuk. The Shinigami practically carried the boy into the house. Mello had only so much to destroy in the enclosed space L had locked him into; before he was done he had turned his anger on himself; Ryuk would not allow Light to help in any way but the Shinigami did begin to draw a bath for the boy, presumably to clean his wounds.

Light remained whilst, with care, Ryuk removed the last tattered remains that clothed Mello’s upper body; the damage seemed to be focused there. Blood covered most of the chest, making it difficult to identify the individual wounds; each looked shallow, but some looked to contain assorted shrapnel, which the Shinigami began to remove carefully with his claws, allowing Mello to do the pressing on any bleeding wounds with a towel sourced from the bathroom. Light wanted to speak to Mello, wanted to understand where the boy’s unstoppable rage came from, but Ryuk snarled and threatened to remove him from the room whenever Light opened his mouth to speak.

“Light-Kira,” L murmured from the doorway to the room half an hour later. Light turned, surprised he had been so distracted that he had not heard the detective arrive back or approach.

“Mello was hurt,” he communicated simply, watching L’s reaction. The detective shifted uncomfortably, his eyes on the floor.

“I expect so.”

“You knew this would happen?”

“Yes.” L looked up; despite his posture, his eyes were unapologetic.

“You allowed two people to die and you let Mello get hurt, all for the chance to get some evidence that might help solve the case?” Light challenged, glancing back at where Ryuk was bandaging the cuts on Mello’s dominant arm while the boy distracted himself with a bar of dark chocolate. The large clawed hands were careful, almost gentle, and Ryuk murmured to Mello, never falling quiet as he distracted his friend from the pain of his wounds.

“Yes.” L’s voice cut through Light’s momentary distraction. Light moved out of the room, forcing L to back away out of the doorway or allow Light to run into him. He closed the door behind him, deciding that he did not want to disturb the surprisingly tender care Mello was receiving any further.

“Why?” he demanded once they were alone.

“We have to catch the killer,” L reasoned. “sooner, rather than later, if Near is involved this will only get worse.”

“But why this way? Surely there were other options.”

“This way has the highest probability of success,” L justified, leaving proximity with Light to take up a perch on his usual chair.

“And what do you have to show for it?” Light demanded, following L across but not sitting.

“Even under the name of L I cannot get forensic evidence tested in less than 48 hours,” L at least looked dissatisfied about the time it would take to perform the tests. “I am sure it will be fruitful.”

Light could understand that, at least. However, two days was a long time when this killer was killing two people daily. “So there could be more people killed. What are you going to do about it?”

“We wait. We don’t take risks. Besides, he has finished his word now. Logically, there would be another break in killings, which would also give the murderer a chance to re-group.”

Light had to admit that L had a point; the killer had not missed the eight day gap between ‘to’ and ‘Kira’ even though he knew L was on the case. However, things were different again now; the killer knew L was getting close. He had already had to kill in a different manner than his usual method in order to maintain his kills. It was impossible to say how close Near would be to catching the killer if he was not on the killer’s side and simply competing with L. However, Light could hardly believe that L would just sit back and let the eight days pass him by; even taking Light to see Beyond had been in purpose of the case. L never stopped working, aside from when he would join Light for sleep and even that had not been the case until Light had forced the matter when they were handcuffed together.

The darkest aspects of Light’s psyche had another argument to make on the issue.

“Death to Kira,” he quoted the killer’s message, his eyes bleeding to red. “It’s a direct threat. He’s challenging me, not you, and you’re expecting me to just wait!”

“Well, I do have some ideas,” L admitted, searching his pockets and finding a small tube of Parma violets to eat.

“Do tell,” Light prompted when it was clear L was not going to continue. L sighed, looking bored to have to explain himself.

“We should have the facial recognition from the entry to the parks and the list of all who have had contact with Beyond by morning; we can cross reference them and I expect we can identify a suspect.”

Light glanced to the computer screens which appeared to be running the facial recognition software in the background to the conversation; each screen connected to a different server and each server working on a different day on which a killing had occurred. This would be something that they could use; if it threw up a suspect, he would have both a name and a face…

“And then I can get rid of them with the death note and if the killings stop, we have our murderer,” he finished the thought for L.

“If you like,” L shrugged. Light almost accepted the suggestion without question but then stopped himself; even if they found someone who was in the park who had contact with Beyond, they could only be a suspect. The rules L himself had set had stated that Light and L both had to consider it 100% certain that the suspect was the perpetrator before the Death Note could be used. For L to be so casual about his threat…

“No!” Light was indignant and startled. “What’s wrong with you? The L I know wouldn’t let anyone die unless they were at least 100% sure they were saving lives by allowing it. This isn’t you, L, you don’t just allow collateral damage if you can avoid it.”

“I am confident that this murderer has had contact with Beyond,” L reasoned levelly. “The killings are too neatly done, too perfectly hidden in plain sight for this to be anyone else directing the operation. We need to look for visitors with a connection to BB’s imprisonment – guards, psychiatrists, released prisoners.”

Alright, it was true that the detective had a point, anyone who was in the park on every single day a killing had occurred and who had a connection to the mad genius criminal Beyond Birthday was a very solid suspect, but still not 100%, and, “What if there are more than one?”

“It is unlikely, but if that is the case then the death of both will still save lives overall,” L accepted calmly.

Light grabbed L by his jumper, lifting the detective’s startlingly light form off of his feet. L’s wide, emotionless eyes looked down at him, unblinking.

“I’m not going to kill someone who is completely innocent!” Light heard himself shouting even as his mind worked to adjust to L’s reasoning; the suggestion was so inconsistent with what he knew of the detective that he could not reconcile the two. It was infuriating. “Why are you doing this? What’s your game, L?”

The detective was evidently starting to feel quite sore from the hold in which Light kept him, his breathing made more difficult by the collar of his FBI outfit shirt pulled tight around his throat supporting his weight. His voice was starting to be scratchy from the compression. “Winning.”

Light dropped L, but before the detective could square his footing Light’s fist collided with his face. The full force of the strike sent him staggering backwards into his chair, the back of his knees striking the seat and he landed sprawled back with Light towering over him.

“We’re not doing it this way,” Light refused, reaching down to pin L’s wrists as he was and trapping L’s ankles between his calves, forcing the detective to remain in the more open and vulnerable body posture. “Do I really have to be the responsible one?”

L studied him through one bright eye; the other was quickly swelling shut, bloodshot and weeping.

“Light-Kira has a twisted moral code,” L mused, still seeming unaffected. “You will kill to save lives but allowing people to die to save lives is beneath you?”

“Yes!” Light snapped. He must still be thrown by the inability to correlate the L before him now with the L he knew; his mouth moved more quickly than his thoughts. L studied him, his focus reminiscent of the expression he held when he had been trying to find out if Light was Kira.

“What difference is there?”

“They’re innocent!” Light tried to catch hold of the words, but he had already spoken them. He internally scolded himself and at the same time wondered if this _anger_ was what Mello felt when he trashed rooms; anger that overwhelmed all rational thought.

“You’ve killed innocent people before,” L reasoned.

“Detectives – FBI agents – people who would have stood in my way.”

“So, it is acceptable to kill by action but not by inaction?” L titled his head, studying Light. “Most would suggest exactly the opposite.”

Light didn’t need L to explain his own views on the matter; it was clear, from what he had seen of the detective, that he had absolutely no issue witnessing those he caught die, even die painfully – but he had been shaken when it had occurred by his own hand with the second death note. L was happy enough to be Justice, even to judge and jury; but evidently, not with the idea of being the executioner.

“Most people are sheep,” Light grumbled, then snarled. “You’re changing the subject!”

“What more is there to say? There is a serial killer free who needs to be stopped. I will stop him by any means necessary. You cannot say you have not done the same, Light-Kira.”

The image of Mello, torn apart by his own hands, came to Light’s mind when L spoke about any means necessary, and his anger could not be stopped before he snapped. “You’re not meant to be like that!”

“What?” L shifted as far as Light’s restraint would allow, leaning back into the chair, nonplussed.

“We’re alike, L,” Light spat, “but not in that way. You’re meant to be one of the good guys.”

It wasn’t what Light meant; he stumbled over the words. What he should have expressed somehow was that the L he knew took issue with losing; wanted to win. The L he knew wanted to win every battle, not just the war. This… this was like seeing him throw a tennis set just to make the opponent become overconfident so that he could win the whole match; a solid tactic, perhaps, but incongruent with L’s image as the world’s greatest detective; he wouldn’t have earned that title if he accepted losses to win in every case. The L he knew would fight every step of the way for the win.

“I’ve never been one of the _good guys_ ,” L sounded disgusted. Was Light’s image of him really so far from the truth? L might have taken issue with killing by his own hand; killing by action, not inaction – but he had never recoiled from doing whatever it would take to win. “I don’t solve cases to be _good,_ I solve them because I’m bored. If Watari hadn’t directed my interest… Well, you have met Beyond, and now Near looks like he might be going a different way.”

Light thought that some form of rational thought must be overwhelming the anger, because he thought he was beginning to understand exactly what was wrong with L. Though the detective maintained his emotionless, almost bored tone, Light was able to read the insecurity behind his eyes. It seemed his last sentence, so badly chosen, thoughtless in anger, had affected the detective more than he realised.

“No,” he argued, voice calmer but still recognisable as something darker than his usual self even as he meant his words to be reassuring and supportive. “You are one of the good guys, L, no matter how that happened. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have tried to save me; you’d have me executed…”

“I’m selfish,” L shrugged. Light stored the admission that L had wanted him to remain alive for his own reasons away for later. “You aren’t making your point.”

“If that were true you would never have risked your life to reveal your face to me when you wanted to catch Kira…”

“I’m impulsive.”

Light growled. “You think through every decision before you act; that’s not impulsive…”

“Also more than a little obsessive.”

“You’re the number one detective in the world because of all the crimes you’ve solved!”

“I’m proud, and manipulative, and a sore loser.”

“You don’t lose. You win in every case – you stopped Beyond, you stopped me. And you still didn’t kill us!”

“I’m childish and vengeful. Your punishments are more suitable; death is too final.”

“You had mercy with Koinu,” Light tried, referencing the fire starter in the arsonist case, who had just started his new life with the one he loved… albeit not perhaps in the way he would have wanted.

“I make snap judgements that affect people’s lives, ignoring the risk where it suits me.”

“You’ve never just let the person you’re trying to protect die before!”

“I’m afraid.”

Light reeled back at the confession, gawping at L. The detective had sunk down in the chair and as Light released him he curled his arms tightly around his legs, burying his face into his knees. Light stared at him, finally understanding fully with the rare glimpse at the L beneath the detective’s outward persona. He crouched down in front of the chair, encouraging L to look at him over the tops of his knees.

“For yourself – or for Near?” he asked gently.

“For Near,” L admitted, “he had – has, so much potential. He could do anything with is intelligence and skill; if trying to be L causes him to become like Beyond, to go mad or become a killer… For myself, for how I can cope if I lose the only friends I have ever had. I had to do so once with Beyond, but he was right there, and I could visit whenever I needed... he wasn’t really gone. And, for Light-Kira.”

“What? Why me?”

“Beyond – Near – Kira. I can protect the world but not the ones I care about.”

Light stared at the detective, the confession ringing in his ears. L had spoken of caring for Light before when they had been arguing, but this time, with L hiding behind his legs so that Light could not fully catch his eye, was the first time he had believed it.

“Mello?” Light asked, trying to avoid the sudden awkwardness he felt. He needed time to process this new information.

“He should leave now, before I destroy him, too,” L reached up, grasping his hair in long fingered hands, tugging at it. Light reached out and caught his wrists, drawing them away.

“Stop that,” he scolded gently. “This isn’t your fault, L. None of that is your fault.”

“Hmm,” L looked up over his knees. His face was blank and expressionless again; Light recognised it as a mask now, and wondered how much of the L he thought he knew was a mask hiding the damage from past betrayals. It hit him that there could be a whole other side to L that Light had never been allowed to see. “Light-Kira, there is a reason I usually work alone.”

“You have to win,” Light acknowledged. “Even over those you care about.”

“By winning, I lose them,” L reasoned. “I don’t usually let people get this close, you know.”

“Should I be honoured?” Light smiled a little, trying to ease the mood.

“I allowed myself to get attached to you, Mello and Near, as I did with Beyond before, and look at all of you,” L’s emotionless tone bothered Light more than the sight of L falling apart; he didn’t like that the walls had gone back up, L was pushing him away.

“Maybe,” Light suggested, sitting himself at the base of L’s chair, sure that L would listen to what he said now but nothing further so there was no point trying to continue the argument. “you don’t have to win all the time. Not with us. Let us in, L, let us know you; let us care about you, too. Stop pushing us away.”

 

* * *

 

It was impossible for Light to sleep that night, listening to L’s breathing; the detective must still be awake too, his breathing wasn’t settling either.

“Light-Kira?” L breathed to him eventually as the witching hour approached.

“Yes,” the younger man grumbled, stiff in his posture under the bed sheets.

“Those things you said earlier?”

Light tensed, considering all of the arguments he had made, the way he had in his anger handed over far too much information about himself and his ongoing affection for the detective, affection he had been thoroughly denying since regaining the Death Note. “What about them?”

“Is that truly how you see me?”

How on earth did L expect him to answer that? This was evidently a test; answer no, and L would either assume he was lying or more likely he would take it as an honest answer and withdraw from any contact once more. Answer yes and either L would take it as an ego boost or more likely as a lie and withdraw as well.

Light could not answer with words in a way that would reassure the detective.

So, he turned to him instead, shifting the covers so that he was able to hover over L, studying the wide eyes. L had been laid curled on his side but as soon as Light moved he had shifted back so he started straight upwards now. Light closed the gap, kissing the detective gently, giving him plenty of change to pull away or refuse.

The darkness of the room was comforting rather than oppressive, hiding any blushes. Light had no idea what he was doing; following instinct alone. Contrary to the expectations of his school friends, Light’s popularity with ladies and men alike had never led to a physical relationship beyond casual touches and kissing intended to manipulate or keep up a front; he had never been interested with those who pursued him before.

It was different with L; had been different for a very long time, since before L had given him back the Notebook. He had thought it might fade, with time, but as time had passed those temptations had not gone away.

This was not the time to indulge himself, however, as he sought to reassure L that he had been speaking the truth before.

Light moved, away from L’s lips and down, trailing his touch over L’s neck and then following down with kisses, each caress and brushing of lips gentle, worshiping. L was still beneath him, his hands laid on the bed open palmed, awkward, and Light was immediately certain that the detective had absolutely no idea what to do with himself in this situation either. He wondered if, beneath L’s well-maintained mask of indifference, he would see more fear or desire, if he looked hard enough.

Light curled his fingers through L’s, taking L’s other hand and encouraging the detective to curl it around his back. L, emboldened, allowed his long fingers to tangle in Light’s neatly arranged hair.

“You are the most intelligent man I have ever met,” Light began, speaking into L’s neck before moving down, his free hand quickly unfastening the buttons of L’s Mickey Mouse pyjamas, opening them at the front to reveal a bony chest and toned waist. How was it possible to eat so much sugar and remain so thin? No doubt if asked, L would spout something about using his brain to burn calories, which was complete nonsense of course otherwise Light would also be thin as a rake.

“You are brilliant,” he trailed kisses over L’s collar bone, nipping slightly with his teeth when the detective opened his mouth to protest. He gasped as the action elicited a muffled whimper from L, whose fingers clutched more tightly at his hair. He soothed the small mark left with his lips and tongue.

“You are accepting,” he freed his other hand from L’s now, and the detective wrapped that arm around his shoulders too, the long fingers catching at the collar of his top. Light moved back a little so that he could completely remove L’s Mickey Mouse top, discarding it to the floor and returning to the end of the collar bone, his kisses trailing down L’s arm to his fingertips and back up to the shoulder.

“And merciful,” he offered once he was back to the midline and able to glance up and meet L’s wide eyes.

“Courageous and loyal,” he trailed kisses down and back across the other arm, nipping the fingertip that L so often caught between his own lips when he was thinking. L’s arm jolted back a little involuntarily.

“Reliable and compassionate,” L’s breathing was shallower now, his skin beginning to flush as Light’s caresses brushed over his nipples, though he kept his kisses to the centre of the detective’s chest, conscious that he did not want to make the detective to stop him by going too far.

“Strong, invincible,” he was reminded as his lips brushed over the muscles that were subtly present beneath the skin over L’s waist, honed by almost daily practice of capoeira.

“But flexible,” he grinned, kisses trailing to either hip bone. Giving L plenty of chance to stop him, he slowly removed L’s pyjama bottoms, sorely tempted to remove the Eeyore boxers as well, a small grin curling his lips at the sight. As he moved back to discard the clothing, he had the opportunity to take in almost all of L; thin yet strong, not classically beautiful perhaps but to Light, who had never been attracted to another before him, perfect.

“You are admired,” he breathed, looking away to meet L’s eyes. The detective was biting his lip, unblinking eyes staring, filled with astonishment and – yes, there was need there too.

“And yes, you may be childish,” Light chuckled as he moved to trail kisses along L’s thighs from the edge of the Eeyore boxers and continue down.

“And you may be blinkered to emotions, sometimes,” his lips trailed over strongly muscled calves.

“And perhaps a little proud,” his hands caught the detective’s foot, and a soft groan escaped L’s lips, not muffled or restrained. Light looked up, grinning, not worried that L would catch his eye at that moment. The detective’s head was collapsed back into the pillow, his eyes tightly closed and that much abused finger tip caught between his teeth to again silence any further noises.

“And manipulative,” Light continued, carefully massaging the sole of L’s foot. It was clearly a sensitive spot for L; even though he was biting his finger, a muffled whimper still escaped.

“A liar,” Light switched to the other foot now, repeating the treatment. L’s long toes curled.

“And a sore loser,” Light released the foot, studying L, a small part of him was sure this was a part of L’s plan all along; to get Kira to fall for him, to have Kira worshipping him; the ultimate defeat. Perhaps the broken, betrayed L he thought he had seen through L’s outward persona was the act, and what he thought was the mask was the real thing? Did it matter to him anymore which was true?

“L…” He didn’t touch him again until the detective opened his eyes and looked at him. “You are perfect as you are imperfect _,_ ” _Congratulations, if this was your plan, you’ve won this one._

“You are L,” Light praised, voice dripping with honey, placing soft worshipful kisses to the detective’s feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there really are secret passageways under magic kingdom. Complete with full staff facilities. Apparently, they didn’t like the idea of characters having to enter the wrong zones to go to work.  
> Hey, still think Light wants L dead?


	10. Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killings begin out of turn, and this time, they are heart attacks

Dawn was meant to bring a break in the killings, so the team had breakfasted on chocolate chip blueberry muffins baked by Kira – who had, for once, woken long before L. The two had fallen asleep in one another’s arms after the events of the previous night, Light stopping at the foot massage though with L laid out almost bared before him he had been sorely tempted to try more. L had not appeared interested in anything more; his boxers would have shown as much to Light even if he couldn’t read the lack of tension in the relaxed limbs of the detective. L had fallen asleep swiftly with a small smile on his face, thoroughly wrapped around Light, but Light had laid awake longer, waiting for his own reaction to calm. It seemed that relaxation carried L through to sleep past the dawn; even Light leaving the bed and showering, his hair care routine and baking the muffins had not woken him.

Light eventually had to wake L, finding him childish as ever in the mornings and having to remove the covers so that the detective could not clutch them tighter around him. He couldn’t blame him, since he had cooled down significantly without Light beside him and in only his boxers; the air conditioning in the villa making it cool enough in the mornings before the sun would warm it through the day that he would actually feel the difference.

With breakfast consumed, the three took to their tasks for the day. Mello travelled to the park, looking to follow up on the investigations of the parade floats. L focused on the footage from the park, searching hours before to see who had access to the floats whilst the majority of the computing power continued to cross reference the thousands of park visitors with the list of people who had ever encountered Beyond since his imprisonment.

Light was tasked with chasing up the assorted forensics reports, utilising his false FBI identification and most authoritative – but not sinister – tone to speed up whatever tests he could and obtain the results. It was simply impossible to get DNA so quickly, but fingerprints only needed to be pulled if they were present. It was perhaps another sign of Beyond’s involvement – or Near’s – that there were none to be found. No hairs or fibres, either. Touch DNA was very experimental technology, a technique that would take years to reach a level of evidence base that would be suitable for use in court rooms, but good enough in this case when all they were looking for was a name that had a connection to Beyond.

Because L was now 96% confident of that particular connection; directly or through Near.

Mello called them about an hour after he attended the park, letting them know that there was still a heavy police presence; they were not only L’s investigators, but Near’s also.

“He attended the park in person last night,” Mello told them, his tone betraying his concern. Indeed, they were all familiar with how much Near despised field work; there must be a reason why he would emerge to see this for himself. “Apparently, he told the police to continue to guard, but that he reckons there is only a 30% chance of another person dying today.”

“That figures well for us,” L disagreed with the percentage attributed to the conclusion, but was content that Near had also reached a similar conclusion; he wondered just how close Near was to catching the suspect, but out of respect for the challenge Near had set he would not investigate Near’s investigations. L was a liar but he wasn’t a cheat – he liked to win properly. He did know, however, that Near had no similar concerns. “Did he specify any letters?”

“Not that I can find,” Mello communicated. “He has been on the floats since last night; the police didn’t stop him even though they hadn’t finished gathering evidence. You shouldn’t have locked me in that room, L.”

“I couldn’t let you trash the park,” L was unsympathetic.

“He could have messed with the evidence, especially if the killer made a mistake, Near could have attended to clear it up…”

“Indeed,” L allowed, content with Mello’s conclusion. “How sure are you that Near attended for that purpose?”

“I still don’t want to think he’s involved,” Mello snapped down the line. L hummed, dissatisfied.

“You need to think with your head, not your heart Mello. I find emotions distract from a thorough and accurate perception of most situations. Now, how confident are you?”

“… Taking your figure that you are 49% certain of Near’s involvement…”

“It’s actually about 43% now,” L pointed out without explanation for the decrease in the figure. Light, listening in on the conversation, reasoned that if Near were involved it would be a risk for him to show up on the scene and mess with evidence when he could simply get one of the police on his own team to hide it with enough encouragement. Therefore, the number had decreased accordingly.

“Right, well if we’re 43% sure Near is involved, I’d say the overall chance he’s tampering with evidence is about 27%,” Mello was slow to answer, familiar with L’s deductive techniques but usually not working in pure numbers like L and Near.

“26%,” L corrected, but his tone was one of subtle praise at the closely matched estimate. “Continue in the park; see what else you can find. Don’t use the same phone line twice.”

Light and L each returned to their respective tasks, Light taking his through to the bedroom since the audio from the footage L was reviewing was distracting in the background of the calls he was making.

When the phone rang again it was many hours later, the light had fallen away and the parks were soon due to close for the night.

“L,” Mello sounded breathless. “There has been another death.”

“Out of sequence,” L’s eyes widened further than their usual. Was the killer getting that desperate? Was this an attempt to throw them? “Details?”

His long fingers flew across the keys. Light leaned in the doorway of the bedroom, brought out by the sound of the phone’s ring but not needing to move closer since the phone was on speaker.

“The Fantasia show tonight; a man named Christopher Victor, he was dressed as the magician in the show.”

“Got it,” since there was no formally released or police uploaded footage on their servers, L had searched for videos posted by the general public and found several of the show. On screen the wizard was mid-way through his overacted performance when he was struck down, clutching at his chest and collapsing on stage.

“A heart attack…” L was quiet, watching the footage over and over from every angle.

When Rafiki – Todd Coben – had collapsed, he had very clearly been victim of a neurotoxic compound; Light’s chasing the forensics tests had revealed that this toxin was the rapid acting and extremely potent pure neurotoxin produced solely by the golden poison dart frog. This batrachotoxin did strongly affect the heart after about 3 minutes in the body, but before it would reach the heart it would act on peripheral muscles and breathing muscles, causing the victim to collapse and be paralysed before their heart would stop.

This was not the case for the magician.

The magician was mid-performance when he became pale, clutched at his chest and collapsed. Despite attempts to resuscitate him right there on the stage there was no sign of life; the heart tracing on the defibrillator was chaotic and uncoordinated for a minute once it was connected and then settled to nothing more to the odd spikes that indicated only the movement from chest compressions. So far as L could tell (and L could generally tell a lot from such clear evidence) this was not batrachotoxin. This was, in fact, absolutely typical of a death for one of Kira’s victims.

“Light-Kira,” L called the younger boy out of the doorway to watch the footage. “Take a look at this, I would like your opinion.”

Light wandered over, perceptive as always and recognising a test when he heard one. L did not, therefore, bother to hide his interest as Light watched the footage he had obtained.

“Well,” Light began, then frowned briefly at L, “you can’t seriously think that was my doing?”

L kept his unblinking gaze on Light, looking for clues in his expression or his eyes that would give away clues. Light was a master in the art of lying; even to L, when he put his mind to it, he could hide enough to get by convincingly.

“You agree, then, that the methods match with Kira?” L prompted, watching for that reaction that would possibly give Light away. Was it a clue that Light masked his reaction at all? If he had nothing to hide, why would he not let that show?

Because he was far too proud, of course, and there was a 93% chance he was angry at L for even suggesting such a thing, if he were innocent. Of course, if it was his doing (as, of course, it could be. The method of killing matched perfectly and the Notebook had been locked away with Light in the bedroom for most of the day, out of L’s sight) then he would be masking his reactions in a similar way, and if he had killed this character, what was his purpose?

The death had occurred out of the pattern. Could it be that Light had killed this character, this magician, to start a message of his own?

No, it was surely too crude for Kira. Kira, who had only yesterday taken such an issue with the death of innocent people when he thought there might have been a way for L to at least try to prevent it. He really did have a twisted sense of morality and what was acceptable, but L knew killing an innocent person would not fit with that.

So, L quickly opened a collection of files and did a very quick search, finding Christopher Victor in the police files without difficulty; it was a wonder that this man had ever been allowed to work around children – there must have been a mistake or fraud in the background checks. This man should not have been allowed to be anywhere near a child, never mind work in a Disney park.

So, he wasn’t an innocent, after all.

Still, if Light were doing the killing, and he wanted to send a message to the DD murderer, he could not count on there being so many criminals working in the parks to complete a message without having to kill innocents along the way – did the ends justify the means to him in this case?

L was inclined to be 77% sure that he would not kill innocent people just to send a message, but perhaps that was because he was compromised.

If it w _ere_ Kira, he would have found a way to make sure the message was put across in just this one kill; or that this one kill somehow connected to the deaths of other criminals that would complete the message.

“Mello,” L activated the communications. “Did the victim leave a note?”

Whilst Mello made absolutely certain (which involved arguments with Near’s team of officers – occasionally involving threats of explosives and guns) that there was no message left, L thought on the victim.

The victim’s last name was Victor – perhaps an obvious deduction, far too obvious for Kira, but then again if he was communicating with the DD murderer rather than L, maybe he would simplify his communications. Maybe Kira was making the point that he was going to win over the DD murderer; maybe this was a challenge?

Too obvious; he could give it 12% at most.

There had to be another reason why he would choose this victim – if, indeed, this was an action performed by Kira.

A few quick clicks and L had the name for the character; Yen Sid. Disney spelled backwards… Disney, reversed. The message reversed. Death to Kira, reversed. That would make additional sense and add on to the meaning from the Victor theory; he would have to add another 6% there, 18% then. Still, not enough to be sure or even confident.

And the obvious; Y. The first letter of the character name. Y could be the first letter of a message; _you will lose, you are pathetic, you aren’t worth the dirt beneath your God Kira’s boots_ – the last was definitely too long, but L would not completely discount it; only give it 0.006% - since it did seem like something Light-Kira would say. Overall as a theory, he still couldn’t attribute more than 5% to this.

What about the letters of the word? Was there another way to arrange them? Yen Sid- Disney. No. There were no other words that made sense from those.

So, that left him with 18% and 5% behind this being Light-Kira’s doing. 23% was far too high for comfort, but at least less likely than this being the DD murderer’s doing.

“Mello,” L got in contact again.

“There are no other messages left behind,” Mello confirmed. “However, I have searched the actor’s changing room and I did notice something. I’m sending you a picture now.”

It seemed their killer had medical issues; a daily dose box, full on the days for later in the week of loose medications, was in a prominent position on a desk in his room.

“L, you don’t think this was just a normal heart attack, do you?”

“No, Mello,” L scowled. “There would only be a 1% chance at most, given the timing. Although, the character actors must be under a significant degree of stress right now; it is a normal human response to threat of death. Therefore, perhaps a 1.2% chance; still, I doubt it. What medications are in the box?”

“That’s just it, they are heart medications,” Mello flicked through the pills. He was only really familiar with illicit drugs, but he had a working knowledge of other substances. It was vital in his role as a detective, sometimes. “At least, I think they might be. I don’t recognise most of them, but he does have a good dose of morphine in here too.”

“Sufficient to raise the percentage he could have had a natural heart attack?”

“Perhaps,” Mello approved. “To 2% at least? And, definitely enough to make it worth running an urgent toxicology test including levels of the drugs on the victim’s bloods, looking for heart medications. It would take 24 hours at most; we would have the result by tomorrow evening.”

“Light-Kira will request it,” L glanced meaningfully at the young man, who sent the email from his phone, receiving an immediate message back to state that the request was being actioned straight away. “Have the medications in the box tested, too. It is possible that a toxin could have been hidden in the place of something that the man takes anyway. Good work, Mello.”

Mello was silent at hearing the uncommon praise; it was evident that he didn’t know quite what to say in return.

“Continue to investigate at the scene; if you find nothing more, it would be useful if you could manage the press. It is entirely possible that they will have picked up on the similarity to the Kira killings, and if they report this on the news it would be useful to ensure that they do not also make the connection to the Death To Kira message.”

“What ID?”

“Pick one,” L knew he sounded impatient, but he wanted to end the call. He had more important things to attend to.

L didn’t like to cheat. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with the concept in principle, but it didn’t feel like a victory if he stacked the odds. However, Kira was stood right behind him, hovering at his shoulder.

He could, realistically, just ask.

“Light-Kira,” L turned his chair rather than turning his head. “Did you kill this man?”

Light was silent for a long moment; his mask never wavered, and L was forced to raise the percentage that this could be Light-Kira’s doing by another 3%.

“Still don’t trust me, L?” Light laughed humourlessly, taking the Death Note from a specially made pocket in his jacket lining. “Here, take a look.”

L did open the page to the last entry, which appeared to be the two that Light had killed the day before, the Georgia case; the details of the death were rather detailed. No name followed; no victim, today. A break in Light’s pattern, as well, if the Notebook were actually to be believed. But it would be only too simple for Light to have removed a page and be using that to kill instead; the book didn’t ultimately prove anything.

“Nonetheless, I would have your word,” L told him, closing the Notebook and handing it back to the young serial killer.

It was certain that Light-Kira was hiding something. Certain, because frankly, he was always hiding _something_ whether that related to the case or not. L also strongly doubted that Light had not killed that day; there would be no reason for him to break his pattern, after all. He had ample opportunity to commit the crime and he was maintaining his mask when asked about it.

“If Light-Kira _has_ killed Christopher Victor,” L began when Light did not offer his word, “I would like to understand why?”

“I would like to understand why you still refuse to trust me,” Light glared at him, and yet his eyes did not glaze red; this was unusual, when Light was angry, and made L more suspicious still. Another 1%. Things were going downhill very quickly.

“Light-Kira is a part of my team, and if he is sending a message to the killer I would like to read it first,” L told him, still trying to read something more than anger in Light’s eyes.

“I’m not,” Light looked exasperated, now, and sounded it too. Interesting; could L reason that when voice and expression matched, Light was lying? Then again, when Light did most things, Light was lying. He was not really sure what it would look like, when Light Yagami told the truth. His mind flashed to the image of Light, his hair mussed by L’s hands, knelt at his feet on the bed, kissing them. A vain hope. “I’m not sending the killer a message, L. _This was not me_. I know it’s a heart attack, so yes it looks like it could have been, but I give you my word it was not.”

L reduced the percentage, but only by one percent. After all, the word of a liar was worth very little. Still, he had to end this line of questioning now; it would do no good to press him on this just now. He would of course try again later.

“Alright,” he told Light, as brightly as he could manage. A headache was starting to form, tension in his forehead from thinking without enough sugar to fuel it. “Shall we have strawberry cheesecake?”

Light huffed, but did indeed get L his strawberry cheesecake.

 

* * *

 

The news reports that night were not curtailed by Mello’s extensive efforts.

“In our top story today, the Donald Duck murder case just gets more interesting by the day. Viewers will remember this case from our previous broadcasts, but for anyone who has been living in a cave for the last few weeks, or those of us who haven’t been following too closely, let’s have a recap.”

“Over a period now approaching a month, a serial killer has been operating within the theme parks in Florida. Instead of closing down, the parks and their employees have soldiered on, safe in the knowledge that the world’s greatest detective, L, and the second greatest Eraldo Coil will solve the case…”

“It seems he took the name anyway,” L noted to Light as he sucked the chocolate from a white chocolate covered strawberry. Light nodded; this alias was clearly being used by Near now.

“In the latest twist, the killer appears to have been sending a message. ‘Death to Kira’. Regular viewers will recall the Kira case from Japan, where a singular killer, now declared captured, killed hundreds of criminals across the world in the most cheered and revered serial killing of all known history.”

“Tonight, it appears the Donald Duck murderer may have bitten off more than he can chew, as the latest victim to die in the Disney parks was killed not by a knife in the back, but by… a heart attack!”

“Sensationalist drivel,” Light complained, desperate to change the channel but knowing they had to see the report through.

“Kira, thought to have been captured in Japan and to have ended his reign of terror, has been rumoured to be working with the world’s greatest detective, L. Of course, this is speculation from the very bottom of the internet – however, with tonight’s events, can we really dismiss it as a fiction? Tonight’s guest is here to tell us more.”

The camera panned out to a picture of Mello, dressed especially smartly in a uniform that would have been perfect for a secret agent in a comic book; all leather, but somehow smartly so. He looked like something from fiction himself, especially with the burned side of his face, without makeup, towards the camera. It was rather disconcerting how much older he looked when only the burned side of the face was showing; he looked a small man rather than a 14-year-old boy.

“Tonight, we have with us an Agent who for the purpose of this broadcast we will call Merlin, in order to protect his identity. Merlin has kindly agreed to speak to us in regard to the Donald Duck case, and the Kira case. Merlin, I understand the information you can provide is limited. “What can you tell us?

“The Donald Duck murders do indeed appear to be a message to Kira,” Mello – Merlin – admitted immediately; pointless to argue, since the reporter had spelled it out so clearly. “However, we have solid evidence in many forms that suggest that today’s death was not related to Kira.”

“Is that because Kira has been captured?”

“Partly,” Mello also gave that away; this was actually helpful. “But also, because we have evidence that the death was caused in another way. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you more just now. However, this evidence will break the case and lead to the capture of the killer.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Because,” Mello grinned confidently. “I work with L.”

The broadcast cut from the interview; it was not being shown live, with was fortunate because at that point Mello had got up and walked off camera, warning the broadcasters that if they tried to expand on the report in the form it was, he would explode the device he had hidden in their building.

“Light-Kira,” L looked up at the other man with unblinking eyes. “If you killed that man, it is not too late to confess. Mello will be very angry if you killed him, now that he has publicly suggested it was not your doing.”

“It wasn’t,” Light maintained solidly. L waited, but there was nothing more forthcoming, so he dropped the subject.

He did not sleep that night; he could not take his eyes off of the Death Note or Kira, for even a moment.

If Light-Kira had killed Christopher Victor, just to send a message… he had crossed a line, interfering in the case and going behind L’s back like that, and L would be forced to take action, whether he wanted to or not.


	11. Daniel Lindsay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team re-calculate their respective positions

Light Yagami was furious.

It had to happen on that exact day, where he had made a concerted effort to not succumb to the temptation of using the Death Note, that Yen Sid, Christopher Victor, would die of a heart attack.

Of course, L suspected him. He would have to; at least a little, given the manner of death. But he could see the degree of suspicion in L’s eyes, in his actions. This wasn’t just _I have to rule Light out as the killer so I can move on with my investigation;_ this was something more.

So, when the next morning the call came through to inform them of another victim first thing that morning as the park opened for the day, Light was angry when L’s thoughts immediately tracked to him again.

“Yen Sid and Aladdin,” L considered. “Christopher Victor and Hakeem Mansur. Both their last names mean victory.”

Light argued that if that were the message, why bother with the double repetition? He did make the point that if he were their killer – and he wasn’t, but still, if he were – he would not repeat the same message twice.

“No? Not that then,” L nodded, reconsidering. Light was disconcerted how quickly L accepted the argument when he postulated the situation of him being the killer. “Perhaps there is something in the names then… Yen Sid and Aladdin… Oh. It’s almost…”

L spun his chair to his computer, typing away quickly in the list of Beyond – connected individuals.

“Daniel Lindsay,” L pulled up the name and the information attached. “It’s _almost_ an anagram. One more L than Aladdin; one fewer D.”

“I’m not _that_ clumsy,” Light grumbled, scowling at L. “If I sent a message, it would be perfect.”

“Yes, it would,” L agreed. “But then I would be confident that it could be from you. No, this is an error that could be put there deliberately, just to shake me off the trail. Daniel Lindsay… I wonder where he was last seen?”

It seemed, on investigation, that Daniel Lindsay was last seen two months ago, when he had been a psychiatry inpatient before he had jumped the fence; the police had searched for the man ever since.

“There is one question I have,” L looked at Light, eyes full of the same look he had held when he had seen Light before the resolution of the Kira case. “If you know the name, you can easily find the face. Why would you spell his name rather than killing him?”

“I wouldn’t…” Light began angrily but trailed off, looking at the letters at the start of the character names again. “Oh. Oh!”

“Is Light-Kira ready to confess?” L tipped onto his tip toes in his perch, eyes excited.

Light sung a fist at L but it was half-hearted; L caught it in an open palm, allowing his chair to spin to absorb the momentum.

“Will you stop that!” Light ordered angrily. “It’s _not_ me. It’s not anything to do with Daniel Lindsay either; at least, I don’t think that’s what this message is meant to say.”

“Then what is it meant to say?” L questioned, lips curling into a small grin. Perhaps this seeming shutter vision from L was just a test for Light?

“Yen Sid, Aladdin… Y, A….” Light spelled it out, surprised that the world’s greatest detective, L, could not see it. “It isn’t me doing the killing, L, but the killer _is_ spelling a name.”

“Yagami,” L breathed softly, making the connection now it had been prompted. Once again, the emotions related to his obsession with Kira had blinded him to the obvious. It was starting to become a problem.

“Yagami,” Light agreed, horrified but at least partly glad that this should show he was not the one killing.

“This raises Near’s percentage back to 47%,” L mused dispassionately. “And the percentage that Beyond is involved has increased to 97%.”

“And me?” Light asked, hoping he was taken out of suspicion by this. He was not sure when it became such a vital thing that L trust him, but he found he actually wanted L to do so.

“Down to 6.3%,” L did at least smile at that. “Of course, it also means that you are not only the target as _Kira_. It means the DD killer knows exactly who you are. You can no longer leave this building. Indeed, perhaps you should not be in America at all. I can call Watari, he can get you the flights needed to take you to Wammy’s house. You will be safe there until the case is solved.”

“Nonsense,” Light snapped at the detective. “If I ran scared of all the people who want me dead, that would be about a fifth of the population of the world.”

“It is different if he knows exactly who you are and who he is trying to kill,” L argued. “And he is clearly good at what he does.”

“I’m not running away,” Light sniffed haughtily. “I won’t go into the parks without you; that’s my compromise.”

L did not look happy, but he had returned to his emotionless mask, so Light recognised that he would not argue the point further.

“Did you ever get the result of the facial recognition against the list of connections to Beyond?”

“Three names,” L pulled up the short list. Notably to Light, the second name was one they both instantly recognised – Daniel Lindsay. Light pointed it out immediately.

“It’s too much of a coincidence, surely,” he suggested to L.

“We have little evidence,” L reminded him, looking at the other two names, Douglas Colby and Livia Sala. Of the three names on this list, Daniel Lindsay definitely seemed the most likely. The man was on the run from a mental institution due to the effect Beyond had on him, and he was at the parks for all of the murders?

“Percent?” Light asked without further explanation. He knew L would understand that he was asking how confident they could be that it was Daniel rather than one of the other two.

“Sixty – maybe seventy, at most,” L was non-committal. He didn’t know enough about the other two yet to be sure.

“There could be another killing at any time now, if he goes back to two per day,” Light reminded L. “If killing Daniel Lindsay has the potential to save so many others, perhaps I should get rid of him now?”

“And how would you feel if he died and he hadn’t killed anyone?” L questioned him but Light only laughed.

“Look at the file,” Light reminded, pointing out the relevant paragraph; what, exactly, Lindsay had done to have been committed for compulsory treatment in the first place. The man had tried to _skin_ a child. When asked at the court date, he had told them he wanted to see how the muscles worked. “He is not innocent…”

“He is unwell,” L argued, glaring.

“He is not better,” Light reminded him. “He escaped the hospital, he wasn’t finished his treatment and he took no medicines with him. He’s a ticking time bomb even if he isn’t the killer, and there is a good chance that he is.”

“There is less of a chance that he could be the DD killer if he is unwell – he wouldn’t be as meticulous, as careful as this killer.”

“Even guided by Beyond?”

L had to admit that he had a point there, Light was sure. He took out the Death Note, but found no pen in his pocket. After a moment he realised L was biting the end of it between his teeth.

“L…” he began, prepared to demand the pen back, when the phone rang.

“Hello?” L answered, the pen still in his mouth. He switched the phone onto speaker mode.

“L, the toxicology on Christopher Victor showed a huge dose of digoxin,” Mello spoke hurriedly. “Light didn’t kill him – it was 100 times the normal dose; 10 times would have been enough to cause an arrhythmia; 100 times would be too much to even rescue him from.”

“Thank you, Mello,” L acknowledged the good work. “Aladdin was likely killed the same way. Make it your task to ensure all of the G’s are checked and protected today; if they have any medication, do not let them take it for the next 24 hours unless it would be fatal not to.”

“Oh.” Mello made the connection in reverse; Yagami. Of course. “How’s Light taking it?”

“Remarkably well,” L lied well, but Ryuk laughed in the background where he had been idly waiting in Mello’s favourite chair for the boy to return. Suitably revealed to be lying, L sighed. “Alright, he wants to kill the prime suspect, but I will deal with him. You have your tasks.”

L hung up the phone, swivelling his chair to Light.

“You will _deal with_ me?” Light growled, sorely tempted to lash out physically but then grinning broadly. “I think our conversation in bed the other night has perhaps given you the wrong idea, L. You don’t get to control me.”

“Fine. But you’re still not getting the pen,” L snapped, but his eyes widened further as he realised the other ways his words could be interpreted, particularly in the context of mention of their bedroom. Had he just carelessly given up all control of what happened, or perhaps didn’t happen, between them intimately? Did he mind? Light could momentarily read him like a book as emotion snapped the carefully maintained mask, and was rather surprised by what he saw.

Perhaps L wasn’t as afraid as he thought.

There were more pressing matters, he reminded himself firmly. Like a certain pen that L currently had between his teeth.

Shaking his head, he scolded himself. L _would_ make this into a challenge, a game. Well, Light would call his bluff; there were plenty of other pens in the house, and it didn’t even need to be a pen. He could write with anything so long as it made its mark.

Although he would have been delighted to fight L for the pen, he prioritised the lives of any potential victims that might fall foul to Daniel Lindsay that day if he didn’t act. He went through to the bedroom, closing and locking the door on L when he tried to enter, and retrieved a pen from his bedside drawers.

The name would be swiftly written as L pounded on the door and demanded that he stop. He specified in the Note that Lindsay should take a digoxin overdose, like the victims, then come forward to police and confess his crimes in full on camera so that he and L would see them. Only once his confession was complete would the digoxin kick in and he would die. However, though he detailed the description, he hesitated to write the name.

“Light, you can’t do this! You’re breaking the rules…”

“You can’t control me,” Light reminded through the door. “I could be saving lives, right now. Even if I’m not, he _skinned a child_ , L, he deserves to die.”

“We’re meant to be a team!” L scolded. “This isn’t team work.”

“I’ve never been a team player.”

“Partners, then,” L tried. Light was silent for a moment.

“It’s fine, L,” he reassured. “You wanted me to work with you, I’m working with you. You can still stand for justice; I’ll just do the dirty work. I don’t care if I get my hands a little bloody, and so long as you’re not the one striking the blow I _know_ you don’t have an issue with the guilty being put to death.”

“We can’t be sure he’s the killer.”

“Even if he isn’t, he skinned…”

“A child. I know,” L actually sounded frustrated now; a rare thing. “Light-Kira…”

“You want the case solved,” Light postulated. “The case is public; in the world’s eye now. You don’t want the killer dead because you want to show the world you can catch the killer and you don’t want Kira to have won this round in the eyes of the public.”

“If you kill the killer, the world will know you are not imprisoned or executed,” L confirmed.

“Well, maybe it is time that they knew that,” Light shrugged though L couldn’t see him. “I don’t really want to stay in the shadows all my life you know.”

“I will ensure that you do not have to,” L agreed easily. “But not _now,_ things are not prepared. It will take time for it to be safe for Kira to operate out in the open as part of the criminal justice system – it’s a huge leap for the world to take. If you do this now you will only make things more difficult.”

“You want to make Kira part of the justice system?”

“Yes,” L nodded, confident having considered the idea several times whilst thinking on how Light would handle prolonged periods without recognition for his victories from anyone other than L. “I am the detective they seek when no other detective is capable of catching the criminal; you could be the judge they would call in whenever there was doubt. Of course, you would need to change some things in the way you operate – you couldn’t just kill everyone you found 100% guilty, but if you could exercise restraint in this, I truly think this could work.”

Light had almost forgotten about the pen and why he had wanted it; picturing a world in which Kira was Judge and L Justice; the pair working together as the perfect team to catch, prove and sentence criminals for their actions. Reluctantly he unlocked the door, letting L in.

“How would you convince the public?” Light was intrigued.

“You would need to start with actual innocence cases,” L explained, taking the pen out of this mouth, his lips stained blue where it had leaked ink. “If you could prove whether the claimant was innocent or guilty, a large swathe of the public would recognise that you could do something good for the world other than the more controversial ridding it of criminals. After that, the steps to take would be clear only when the public’s response was known.”

“That’s… a solid plan,” Light considered, glancing down at the open Death Note in his hands. The page showed a list of names, no longer than when L had last seen it, and the method without a name. He closed it firmly; he would not use it today. He would not ruin L’s plan. He set the book aside on the dressing table and held out his hand to L for the leaking pen. L did not hesitate to hand it over so that Light could set it down beside the notebook. “So, if we can’t just kill Lindsay, we have to catch him, and the other two.”

“Yes,” L agreed.

“How are we going to do that?”

“So far, Lindsay and the other two have been present at the park on the same day as all of the murders. If we can stop them on their way in, we could interrogate them – there are only three, after all.”

Light nodded, moving through to the sitting room where he was expecting to use the computer and the phone to make arrangements for the Epcot entrance – where the only G-initialled characters performed – to be prepared to capture the three people.

“L, what makes you think they aren’t all involved in this?”

“There is a 64% chance that the killer is working alone,” L informed him without explanation, though he could guess. It was more likely that the killer was working alone because no death had occurred in close enough proximity to the next as to prevent a single killer from changing locations. “30% chance that there are two killers, and only 6% that there would be more.”

Light accepted that without argument; so, it was more than likely one of the three. If they caught two, and one was free when a character died, they would be reasonably sure that the remaining one was the killer. Light could then use the Notebook if he had to in order to pass judgement. However, if they could only catch one, two would still be in the running as the killer and the Death Note would be useless to them.

“Can we find the location of any of these suspects?” he asked L, wondering if they could narrow down to two already.

“Not yet,” L shook his head. “None of them have registered premises near here, and if they are in hotel rooms they are using fake names.”

Well then, there was nothing more to do than to call the park and make the arrangements.

It was a shame; for a moment there it had felt like they were catching up on the killer, and were so very close to the win.

* * *

 

_“Goofy has been killed.”_

The synthetic voice came from the computer at one in the morning.

“Near,” Mello greeted quietly. “Wait; I will get the others.”

“They are not working?” Near’s synthetic voice actually sounded surprised.

“No,” Mello reminded Near of L’s improved sleep schedule since he started to share a bed with Light before going to wake them.

A groggy Light and a bright-eyed, well rested (for two whole hours) L emerged from the room with him, taking in the sight of the stylised N on the computer screen.

“Near,” L greeted. “What is the meaning of this?”

“A courtesy call,” Near told him. “I thought you should know that Goofy has been killed.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“At about 6pm tonight, or whatever time he takes his evening medication,” Near reported. “I have checked the tablets he takes, and his usual painkillers were replaced with a tablet containing a 100mg dose of digoxin.”

L had only the necessary medical knowledge; poisons made up a part of that, but prescription drugs were less important to him. Even then, he knew that digoxin was usually given in micrograms, and so a dose of 100mg could be assumed as 99.97% certain to be fatal – but it was not necessarily a quick death, whilst the body absorbed the chemical.

“When did you discover this?” he asked Near.

“At 6.05pm this evening,” Near told him. “I’ve been snapping at the killer’s heels for days but I just can’t close the gap. I’m closer to getting him than you, L.”

“Did you get him to a hospital? Goofy?”

“Yes, of course,” Near sounded bored. “That is what a person is socially expected to do when they find someone slowly dying, isn’t it? The doctors won’t be able to save him, though, so if we were to shut Goofy into a box like Schrodinger's cat we can be quite certain that when we open the box the cat will be dead.”

L looked to Light. This put paid to their plan for the next day; if Goofy had effectively already been killed, there would be no reason for the killer to go to the park that day.

“Why are you telling us this?”

“As I say, just professional courtesy, L,” Near was casual.

“No,” L deduced. He had already expected it. “You’ve been spying on our investigation. You just don’t want us to capture any of the suspects before you can.”

“Believe what you like, L,” Near chuckled. “It won’t help you win.”

L was the one to effectively cut the connection, his long fingers flying across the keys in front of him and breaking the code Near had used to hack the computer.

“We must go ahead,” L told Light and Mello. “We cannot allow Near to distract us from our goal.”

Mello waited until Light and L had returned to bed and had enough time to fall asleep before repairing the coding damaged in L’s vicious digital attack.

“Near,” he greeted again once the code was fixed.

“Mello,” Near’s own voice sounded instead of the digitally altered one. “You have information for me, about the case?”

“No,” Mello told him succinctly. “But, it is important!”

“Speak,” Near allowed, though Mello got the impression he wasn’t really listening.

“Near – Kira is killing again.”

“Oh?” Near did not seem so uninterested now.

“L isn’t even trying to stop him. It isn’t once a week any more, it’s at least daily, right under L’s nose,” Mello told him.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m not sure what to do,” Mello admitted.

“How badly do you think L is compromised?”

“I’m not sure. He could have a plan, but he hasn’t shared it.”

“I would not expect him to,” Near allowed. “But, this is indeed an interesting development. Thank you for sharing, Mello.”

“What should I do?” Mello asked again before Near could cut the connection. He swallowed his pride. “Please, Near, I need your opinion on this.”

“Do nothing,” Near instructed. “Observe, and we will consider this again once the DD murder case is over. I cannot afford to be distracted now, Mello, I cannot let L win this one.”

“…alright,” Mello sighed heavily. “Alright, Near, we’ll do it your way. Would it be strange if I were to wish you luck?”

“Bizarre,” Near laughed genuinely, the rare sound catching in his throat. “But I will take it anyway, even if it is a lie. Sleep well, Mello.”

“Goodnight, Near,” Mello studied the blank black screen only a moment longer before retiring to his bed.


	12. Livia Sala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the team have specific suspects, they are finally able to send Mello in to catch them.   
> With Light innocent of the most recent killings, he and L reach some small level of greater understanding.

Goofy – or at least, the actor who usually took on the role of playing Goofy in the Disney park – died at 7.52am that day of an irresolvable disruption of the electrical conduction of the heart which stopped its beating. Near had ensured that he received the best possible treatment in hospital – Mello had checked this and confirmed the same. But despite ingesting a large quantity of activated charcoal, being given several doses of medications for different complications, and receiving difficult to obtain and extraordinarily expensive digoxin antibodies the doctors could not save him.

The team had decided to proceed anyway with their arrangement at Epcot that day. If they were in luck they would still catch one of more of the suspects and that would give them something that they could do with the rest of the day while the A’s were already very well protected by Near’s and L’s police officers. They were all on site, the video footage being reviewed by L while Mello and Ryuk mingled with the crowd. Light was with L in a back office. He had the Death Note to hand ready to use if the suspect managed to escape or hurt Mello.

“Look to your right,” L prompted as Mello moved around beyond the park entrance. On this day to make things easier for the team only half the usual number of lanes were open making the process of gaining entry to the park slower and the visitors more impatient.

“I’ve got Livia,” Mello confirmed a few minutes later. Livia Sala, third on L’s list, was an Eastern European forty-something year old who had been training as a psychiatrist in America when she had attended the prison with her consultant supervisor in order to gain experience in forensic settings. Unfortunately, at that time the prison and mental health teams had not recognised the danger of Beyond Birthday, and she had been allowed to enter the interview room. Whilst the consultant psychiatrist had committed suicide three weeks later, Livia had essentially disappeared from the world, living on savings from her earlier life in Europe and receiving no support for her psychological damage.

“Livia Sala,” L began, once Livia was brought to the back room and secured in a gigantic metal cage erected to hold a suspect. “You are under arrest for suspicion of involvement in the DD murders. If you are involved, your full confession will ensure fair treatment as I am certain the murderer in this case is a puppet being controlled by another. Do you understand?”

Livia laughed; a high, hysterical sound, tears bursting onto her cheeks. Her fingers, with multi-coloured painted finger nails, clutched at the bars of the cage until her knuckles turned white. Her feet, in mismatched shoes, poked out between the bars as she pressed her entire body up against them, looking through with wide eyes.

“You look like him,” Livia’s voice shook. L knew from the information he had gathered that she spoke perfect English, however, she seemed to stumble over the words. “Like B. BB. Are you B? Are you here to kill me?”

L stuffed his hands into his pockets, regarding the woman behind the bars. The change in her had occurred not on seeing the cage but on seeing him. Whilst he was not burned like Beyond, the resemblance could indeed be seen. He would not be able to question her if he wanted any answers.

“Mello, Light,” he called in. “I will continue to observe the cameras. Find out what she knows.”

Light had set the Note aside, observing the woman in the cage as Mello slowly approached.

“Would you like a glass of water?” Mello began as the woman let go of the bars of the cage and took great heaving breaths for air once L left.

“No,” she shook her head. The shaking was gone from her voice but had spread through her whole body. She crouched and curled into a ball on the floor of the cage, rocking gently with eyes closed. “Not B… He’s not here… He’s not here…”

“Can you tell me about him?” Mello asked. One day he would have to find out if any of the interviews were recorded; it would make for fascinating watching to see what Beyond had done to break this woman so much in just one half hour meeting.

Livia laughed, not madly this time, a soft humourless chuckle.

“He’s right here,” she pointed to her head. No, that wasn’t an apt description. She pressed one sharp-nailed index finger to the side of her head and used it to drill inwards, breaking the skin and causing a small trail of blood to stain her hair. “He’s always… right here.”

“You hear his voice?” Mello clarified.

“Always,” Livia confirmed. “I see him, I hear him, I smell him… he never leaves me alone.”

“Does he tell you to do anything?” Mello questioned. Would it be that simple, to obtain a confession?

“Yes,” Livia laughed again. “Every day. He tells me to kill myself. Tells me how to do it, how _he_ would do it.”

It felt wrong to ask, like he would be driving the knife deeper, but Mello had to do so to see what information he could gain to solve the case. “How would he?”

“Today,” Livia took a deep breath, her finger moving now, carving a shape in her scalp. “Today he would see if, by removing just a person’s scalp and preventing the blood from clotting, they could lose enough blood to kill them.”

“Does he tell you other ways?”

“Would you like a list?” Livia sounded as grim as she looked. “Yesterday, his voice was telling me to remove my toes and fingers and feed them to the neighbour’s dog. Once it was locked in my garage with me. So that, once it got hungry enough, and had a taste, it would eat me. He wanted me to make sure I didn’t die till it had eaten my arms and legs; he wanted me to test how long it would last. The day before that…”

“That’s enough,” Mello stopped her, shaken. Livia’s rocking had stopped as she described the method of suicide, as if the gruesome description soothed her fear. “Does he tell you to hurt anyone else?

“Sometimes,” Livia allowed, switching hands so that her opposite finger could carve into her scalp. Light moved forwards, catching her hand through the bars. Livia’s eyes opened, her head turning sharply to stare at her own hand, looking shocked as if it was not under her own conscious control. Light let go after a minute but remained close enough to the bars to reach in again if required.

“Why do you come to Disneyland?” Light asked in Mello’s place.

“I could feel _him_ here. B. BB. Beyond Birthday. B. He’s playing,” the mad laugh was back.

“What do you mean?” Mello took back control of the interview from Light, understanding that they had to be cruel to be kind to solve the case, but not trusting that Kira would not be unnecessarily torturous to someone who was quite possibly a murderer.

“These murders – they feel like him,” Livia finished at almost a whisper, her eyes looking suspiciously to every corner of the room.

“Have you ever hurt anyone because he tells you to?” Mello pressed on.

“Yes.”

Mello took in a steady breath, hiding a gasp. So, in half an hour two years ago, Beyond had broken this woman enough that she would act on those perceptions he left her with?

“Who? When?”

Livia stood and reached to the bottom of her sun dress, pulling it upwards quickly over her head. Mello didn’t try to stop her, studying the scar-strewn skin not covered by her underwear with disgust and fascination.

B. 13.

Every inch of her skin, covered in those three characters; the letter B and the number 13. The scars were of various ages, some red and angry, others faded and white. Every scar was deep, and wide as if cut with an implement other than a knife – perhaps a finger nail? Light, from his vantage point, would be able to see the shape of what Livia had been clawing into the side of her head.

“I hurt myself so that I don’t have to hurt anyone else. He tells me others should be able to see the marks he leaves on me.” Livia explained, turning so Mello could see her back as well – also covered in B’s and 13’s. As she turned he could see the side of her head was indeed carved into a B.

“Have you ever hurt anyone else? Other than yourself.”

“No,” Livia shook her head vigorously. “No, I lock myself up when he tells me to do that.”

“If you are so afraid of him, why come to Disneyland because it feels like him?” Light called her on her irrational reasoning.

“Because I _must_.” Livia sounded so clear on the matter. “Because B wants me to, and I’m not hurting anyone. Do you know how much energy it takes, every second of every day, to fight him? If B wants me here, I will be here so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Have you ever spoken to him again, since that first meeting, in person?”

“No,” Livia again sounded clear and honest.

“Livia,” Light explained, his tone compassionate and inviting trust. “B wants you here to act as a decoy for the real murderer. We need to get you psychiatric treatment immediately, and you can’t come back here. Do you understand?”

“B will be angry,” her voice had changed, childlike now and afraid. “He will hurt me.”

“I understand,” Light knelt down beside the cage where Livia slowly curled herself into a ball again. He reached out to comfort her, but suddenly her teeth almost caught his arm as he snatched it back out of the cage. He blinked at her and did not try again. “Livia, he is not here. B is still in prison. He can’t actually reach you here.”

“He can,” Livia laughed hysterically. “You don’t know him. He can find me _anywhere_. He will kill me if I go to the hospital.”

“That’s just what the voice wants you to think…”

“Light, come away,” Mello interrupted, seeing the growing terror in Livia’s eyes. He caught the moment the shaking stopped, caught the moment she became perfectly still. “Light, leave her…”

“Livia, it’s not real,” Light challenged. “He’s not real. Just a voice, in your head.”

Livia looked up, a terrifying grin reminiscent of B’s adorning her features.

She lifted her hand to her throat, as if to try to choke herself.

And pressed; sharply and forcefully inwards, her long reinforced fingernails cutting deep through the skin and piercing both carotid arteries, blood pouring out around her fingers and forming a river down her chest.

“No!” Mello leapt into action, fighting with the lock of the cage to get the door to open. It took seconds, but it was already too late. Despite the pain it must have been causing her, Livia dragged her reinforced fingernails downwards, ripping the arteries open so that they gushed blood onto the floors and ceiling.

Nails that were each adorned with a single painted B.

 

* * *

 

“So, we can reasonably consider that Livia is not a suspect,” L concluded when Mello and Light reported back to him later, once the paramedics had attended to declare the death and they had shown the footage of the interview to the forensic examiner.

“I’m not sure that we can,” Light argued. “Sure, she seemed like she was being honest. However, her behaviour throughout was bizarre. She was clearly strongly affected by Beyond. I wouldn’t want to exclude that he was actually influencing her whilst we were talking. Could it be possible that he could have a way to control people when they’re dying, like a Death Note?”

“Ryuk,” Mello asked the Shinigami who was holding him close, protective ever since the woman had killed herself in front of them. “Could you tell if another Death Note had found its way to the human world?”

“Nah,” Ryuk shrugged. “Not unless the Shinigami came and told me for some reason. There could be half a dozen out there, I don’t know.”

“So, it would be possible that Beyond could have a Death Note?”

“Yeah,” Ryuk sounded a little concerned, probably for Mello rather than the human race as a whole. “Although, I don’t know that any Shinigami would find it interesting to have to stay in a prison cell all the time. If that had happened to Light I would just write his name in my Notebook and move on.”

“Such a loyal friend,” Light complained under his breath.

“But, what if the Shinigami found Beyond interesting?” Mello pressed. “Like if I got put in prison – we’d make our own amusement.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ryuk’s feathers rustled as he shifted a little under the questioning. “If the Shinigami cared about him enough, maybe.”

“As helpful as always, Ryuk,” Light sighed, handing the Shinigami an apple so that he didn’t have to move from where he was holding Mello.

So far as they could tell, neither of their other suspects had attended the park that day. Daniel Lindsay and Douglas Colby – the killer had to be at least one of the two, perhaps both.

Light didn’t try to argue that they should just kill them both to save the lives of others, not having seen the effect Beyond had on Livia Sala. Whether they were the killer or not it was likely that one or both men were nothing more than a victim of Beyond Birthday and should not be killed because of that. This was exactly the type of mitigating circumstance Light would have considered when operating as Kira, even before L came along.

“I do not think it likely that B has a Death Note,” L told them coolly. “If he did, he would have ensured he was out of prison and that he would have seen me suffer. He might still have created this case, but not from behind bars.”

“What about if Near had a Note?” Light queried. Mello tried to pull out of Ryuk’s arms, his face displaying an angry snarl, but Ryuk held him close, refusing to let him launch himself at Light.

“As much as Near likes a game,” L considered, “I think that unlikely. Near would simply kill me and skip the rest. He cheats.”

“Percent?”

“Less than 1% that either have a Notebook,” L stated immediately. “Of that 1%, 0.8% Near would have one and 0.2% for Beyond.”

“Then how is he controlling them?”

“Beyond always had his ways,” L shrugged. “He learned them at Wammy’s, learned to manipulate people, to put a thought in their mind that would never go away. When A killed himself, Watari first thought that the pressure of trying to be L was too much for him, but he could never entirely exclude that his death was Beyond Birthday’s doing, even though it was definitely a suicide.”

“But to be so affected from such a short meeting and for so long?” Light couldn’t rationalise it with what he knew of the human mind.

“Sanity is a fickle and fragile thing,” L looked pointedly at Mello, who understood. All residents at Wammy’s house had stepped close to the line at some point, himself included. “Beyond need only plant a seed; it is the fear it causes that allows it to grow. He has a talent for finding the worst, weakest part of a person and using it to destroy them from within.”

“L,” Light was frowning suddenly, a thought coming into his mind abruptly. “If the killer knows my name, they have to have been in contact with Beyond since I went to visit him.”

“Yes, I was thinking the same thing,” L agreed. “Unless, of course, Near is involved.”

“If Daniel Lindsay is on the run from a psychiatric hospital, he would hardly be able to visit Beyond in prison,” Light argued. “Did you manage to track down any information about Douglas Colby?”

“He appears on the prison’s list for people who have had contact with B, but it doesn’t give any further detail, and I cannot find anything at all online,” L reminded Light. He had told him this earlier, but it was fair for the younger man to wonder if the situation had changed, so he was not overly frustrated to have to repeat himself.

“Isn’t that suspicious enough?” Light argued. “Lindsay’s name being made up almost by Aladdin and Yen Sid could just be a coincidence, but if it isn’t then it could be an attempt to divert us away from the real killer.”

“We have no proof,” L stated simply.

“No, but if we wait for that more people could die,” Light’s fingers twitched to the Notebook. “If we can rule out Lindsay, because there is no way he could have access to Beyond…”

“Under that premise, then Colby would still be a victim of Beyond’s control,” L took the Death Note from Light’s hands, flicking through the pages. “We already agreed we wouldn’t kill him if that were the case.”

“When did we agree that?” Light asked, surprised. He had thought it, but had not said it to L.

“Ah,” L nipped his index finger between his teeth, considering. “I suppose we didn’t out loud, but, we have to be 100% certain, if you recall. Besides, you were thinking it anyway.”

“Sometimes I really don’t like the way you think, L,” Light complained, rolling his eyes at L’s deduction but not really feeling annoyed.

“Liar,” L grinned at him. Light huffed, taking the Death Note back and returning it to the computer table. His fingers lingered on the cover.

“You know, it’s been a few weeks,” he reminded L. “We really should change the paper in your bracelets now before it wears away.”

“Ah, yes,” L rubbed at the bracelets on his wrists, which looked a little like a form fitting handcuff, and contained pieces of the Death Note that were the only reason he did not forget about the Notebook and the Shinigami at all. “One at a time?”

“If you would,” Light settled into a computer chair beside L, who was hesitant in removing the first bracelet, taking the time to assess Light carefully before he did so. The clasp clicked slowly open, the bracelet falling loose. Light began the process of threading the paper out of the bracelet and replacing each piece painstakingly. “We won’t need to do this as often, since this paper seems to be quite resilient. This has barely worn at all.”

“That is good,” L reminded him. “We should keep the paper as fresh as we can, so that if we are separated for any reason the paper will last as long as possible.”

“Of course,” Light agreed, glancing up at L. “I should give you some spare paper too, just in case…”

“No!” L’s eyes went even wider than their usual. “No, you shouldn’t do that. If it fell into the wrong hands, there would be potential to create a temporary Kira until the paper ran out. If someone manages to get it off me, I would not want there to be enough for them to use.”

“Alright,” Light reassured him. “No loose pages. Fine. But still, I would prefer for there to be a back-up plan.”

He reached out and took L’s hand rather than asking for it, his fingers gentle as he drew it towards him. He set it in his lap, palm upwards, and wrapped the bracelet back around, careful not to nip L’s skin as he fastened the clasp.

“There,” he smiled at L. “Good as new. Shall we do the other one?”

L offered out his other arm without a word, watching as Light removed the second bracelet and the ring without the trepidation he had felt before removing the first. Light’s fingers were firm but gentle in their actions, and L found himself shifting from his deductive crouch into a more casual seated pose.

“I never did thank you,” L spoke softly. “For what you did for me the other night.”

“It was nothing,” Light blushed a little, continuing to work on the second bracelet. “… I’m sure you’d have done the same for me, if I’d been upset.”

“Would you like me to do the same for you?” L asked curiously. “With Light-Kira’s thoughts of being a God of a New World, there is a more than 85% chance that Light-Kira would be aroused by such worship.”

“Argh, L, when you put it that way you make it sound so clinical,” Light grumbled. “You’re not exactly a romantic, are you?”

“By habit, no,” L shrugged. “Should I have bought you flowers?”

“Wait,” Light glanced up from the bracelet. “Was this just speculation or were you actually offering?”

“I believe it could be both,” L nodded, determined.

“That… that isn’t necessary,” Light dismissed the offer reluctantly. With the way L spoke about it, there was a good chance that L was just using this suggestion for his own personal gain.

“Of course not,” L agreed. “Not necessary, but, I do think Light-Kira would enjoy it. I would like to see.”

There was almost something hopeful in L’s tone at the end there, Light recognised. What plan did he have, how did he plan to use this to his favour? However, he was right about that; Light was certain that he would enjoy himself. That might be the problem – if Light were as aroused by L’s actions as he expected he likely would be, would L panic? Would he react at all? Was this part of the point, to test if Light was attracted to him in that way? Would L use this as a way to regain control of Light.

“Light-Kira need not worry,” L assured him when he saw that Light was getting too deep into his thoughts. “I do not intend to do anything you would not want me to.”

Light studied the detective critically, but he could not find any way that this could harm him in a way he could not manoeuvre out of, now or in the future.

“Alright,” he agreed, “but if I tell you to stop…”

“I will stop,” L promised, holding out his arm. Light almost took his hand before he realised that L was only offering it to have the bracelet put back into place. He secured it quickly, checking the close fit. Carefully he also replaced the paper in the ring, this one even less worn than the others due to the lack of movement allowed by its close fit. This paper would last several weeks, if they ever needed it to. Light replaced it on L’s finger, the gesture feeling nearly as intimate as L had joked when it was first put on. “Shall we go to the bedroom?”

“It wouldn’t do to have Mello walk in on us,” Light agreed, but he hesitated on the sofa, a part of him still trying to work out the motivations behind L’s actions – what was his plan?

“Light-Kira?” L questioned as he remained behind. “Is something wrong?”

“… No, it’s fine,” Light resolved, getting to his feet and leading the way into the bedroom, pausing before the bed, uncertain again.

The long fingers of one of L’s hands curled around his shoulder, drawing his attention. He looked round, seeing the concern in L’s eyes.

“If Light-Kira is not comfortable with this…”

“I said I’m fine,” Light snapped, regretting it instantly as L’s hand dropped from his shoulder. He sighed. Could he be honest with L? He probably shouldn’t, but if ever there was a setting in which he could, it would be about this. “I want to do this, I just can’t help but wonder why you want to. What’s your play?”

“An eye for an eye, Light-Kira,” L explained easily.

“You don’t have to do this just to return the favour.”

“I know,” L shrugged. “But Light-Kira makes me happy, so I want to make him happy too.”

Ah, Light considered, like training a Pavlovian response then? He almost recoiled before he recognised the look in L’s eyes was still more than a little concerned and yet hopeful. L sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” he began, moving away. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Light reached out and caught L’s hand before he had a second to think it through and realise that would be exactly what L’s goal would have been by moving away in the first place. He dropped the hand as if burned.

“Light-Kira,” the detective murmured, his back still turned. “Perhaps in this alone, you have far more experience than I do. I can only confess that I have no idea what I’m doing, and I hope that you can have patience with my mistakes as I learn. I don’t know what it is that I have said or done that has upset you so, but if you would be so kind as to tell me, I will make sure not to repeat my mistake. I am a fast learner.”

Light frowned at his back. This was surely a trick, too, though L sounded genuinely remorseful.

“If I tell you to stop?”

“I’ll stop,” L agreed readily.

“Okay.”

L turned to him, wide eyes studying his. The detective stepped forwards, hands on shoulders gently encouraging Light to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to remove your shirt now,” L forewarned him, long fingers catching the top button. Light had removed his tie earlier, feeling constrained by it when not in the presence of people outside their team.

“Okay,” Light agreed, watching as those long fingers made swift, precise work of the buttons. L looked expectantly at him, waiting for him to remove the shirt himself, which Light did, and tried to proceed to fold it up but L snatched it out of his hands, tossing it behind him.

“I am reliably informed that folding clothing is abnormal bedroom etiquette in this situation,” L told him.

“Reliably? You haven’t been speaking to Mello about…”

“No,” L sniffed. “However, I have been doing some research…”

“You’ve been watching porn,” Light corrected, a grin curling his lips at the thought of L in his awkward crouch studying his multiple computer screens with his usual detached interest, even as the screens played all manner of performances ranging from vanilla to fetish videos. “It doesn’t have to be like that in real life, you know.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” L sounded a little disappointed. “Though there is one video I would like to show you for next time…”

“Next time?”

“Sorry,” L looked abashed. “If this goes well, I had rather assumed that there might be a next time…”

“L,” Light put a finger to the detective’s lips. “We’re doing too much talking.”

“I like to hear your voice,” L admitted. “And I am nervous.”

Light was astonished by the honest confession. He frowned down at the detective’s dipped head and in an instant their roles were reversed and Light felt in control of the situation; whatever L’s plan had been, it didn’t matter now.

“I will be quiet,” Light promised, shuffling back on the bed and drawing L with him. The detective fell automatically into his deductive crouch at the end of the bed as Light lounged back onto the pillows. To save an awkward moment later, Light removed his socks and trousers, then with a pointed look at L, discarded them on the floor in a rumpled heap. L’s face was split by a grin and he laughed, moving forwards over Light.

“If I do something wrong…”

“Don’t worry,” Light smiled reassuringly. “I haven’t done this before, either.”

This wasn’t like the previous night; this had the promise of something _more,_ something beyond the gentle touches they had shared previously. L studied him, looking for a lie. Finding none, he nodded.

He caught Light’s lips in a kiss, which Light returned; they were gentle with one another, testing the waters. It took a good while for the older detective to relax and allow his slight weight to settle over Light’s strong frame.

“Light-Kira is intelligent,” L tried, a murmur against Light’s lips. Light hummed in approval, understanding that he would need to be at least a little vocal to reassure L that he was doing well.

L moved on, down to Light’s neck with his kisses. His long fingers moved down with him, leaving a burning trail on Light’s skin as they did. Light watched him, unable to achieve the cool detachment he had seen in the detective when he had done the same with roles reversed. He was already starting to respond, physically and mentally. It had been months since he had so much as relieved himself; constant proximity to L had been both temptation and prevention from doing so. He had been ready for something for w _eeks_ and he was sure he would embarrass himself before this was through, even if L took this no further than he had with their roles reversed.

“A master manipulator,” L murmured into the crook of his neck, his breath cooling the warmth left by his lips a moment before and making Light shiver.

Light realised that he was gripping bedsheets, and lifted his hands, coming to rest on L’s curved back. His fingers trailed the spine through the shirt, discovering that the curve there was definitely posture rather than a kyphosis; in this moment, L’s spine was perfectly straight. He wondered momentarily how tall L would be without his usual slouch; as tall as Light? Taller?

“Powerful,” L murmured into his chest, lips trailing from there and down his arm, first the one without the handcuff and then the one with it. Stopped momentarily by the cold metal, L huffed, swiftly reaching into his pocket to unlock the offending item from Light’s wrist. As if reminded by the metal, L allowed the cold of his own cuffs to press against Light’s chest.

“Controlling,” he listed when he was back to the centre of the younger man’s chest. Light frowned a little, his fingers clutching L’s shirt.

Of course, he should have known L would pull something like this. These were not exactly the God-like compliments he had been expecting; controlling, manipulator… even powerful could be taken as an insult in the wrong context. The only problem was that it was working; his body was responding and so was his mind, relaxing beneath L’s touch and delighting in his words.

“Intimidating,” L spoke against the soft skin of his abdomen, covering the strong layer of muscle beneath. The cool breath there tightened the muscles, making Light gasp.

In moments, L would know for sure how strongly he was being affected by this treatment, if he hadn’t noticed already. Light was only in boxers; they did nothing of any use to hide his obvious arousal.

L looked up at him, mischief glinting in wide eyes.

“Remorseless,” he continued, fingers stroking over the sides of the fabric of the boxers but not coming to the centre.

“Cunning,” he listed as he moved beyond the boxers and down, not touching any more, swiftly down to Light’s feet. He massaged them each in turn, falling silent for several minutes as he did. Light would wonder if L had a foot fetish if this didn’t feel so good that all other thoughts were chased from his mind. He was sorely tempted to just relax back into the pillows and close his eyes as the sensations L created dragged a reluctant moan from his lips, but he did not want to take his eyes off the detective; not because he didn’t trust him, but because the sight of L worshipping him at his feet did indeed spark something; something far darker than he thought should be allowed into an intimate situation, but something that had him gasping in his arousal.

“Deceitful,” L finally continued up the leg, wide eyes meeting Light’s and drawing another half strangled moan from him with no additional stimulation.

“Callous.”

“Arrogant,” L chuckled softly as he reached the bottom of Light’s boxers. He hovered there, his face so very close to where Light sorely needed it. If he wasn’t careful, Light was sure that he would be able to come, just from this, but he held back – unwilling to embarrass himself so completely. L looked up at him, studying his eyes for an answer, then reached up and hooked long fingers into the top of the boxers, giving him plenty of time to refuse before pulling them down and away.

“Ego-centric,” L continued almost absently, sitting briefly back on his heels and studying the whole of Light. “Beautiful…”

The last seemed to slip out and surprise L with its presence, a gasp, but it made Light groan again, so he reached out and drew the detective back down to his lips, kissing him fiercely.

“Self-indulgent,” L scolded, drawing away and moving back down.

“Light-Kira,” he murmured against the aching head of Light’s cock, hard enough that it was almost painful to hold himself back now. He wanted to move, wanted something more to bring him over the edge of the precipice he was balanced on, but didn’t dare to demand anything more of the inexperienced detective. L’s eyes caught Light’s, considering something. He placed a small kiss onto the head of Light’s cock. “Stop holding back.”

“ _My_ Light-Kira,” L murmured.

Startled with the rush of heat that surged through him, Light did not have time to warn L or pull him away as he came. Almost absently through his orgasm, he recognised L’s tongue lapping up every drop.

Gasping broke the silence of the room some minutes later when Light finally gathered his thoughts enough to realise that his hands were fisted in L’s chaotic hair, holding him in place between his thighs. He released him quickly with a flustered apology, but L didn’t look like he minded at all as he moved up Light’s body, sprawling across him with a smile.

Light should have been embarrassed to have come with so little stimulation, but not only was he a teenaged male, he had spent those weeks sharing a bed with L, and in a cell before that without relief. L knew these things, and suddenly he knew that the detective would not judge him for it. He felt no need to be embarrassed or to explain.

“I suppose kissing you now would be out of the question?” L asked. Light studied the detective; he wasn’t sure about tasting himself on L’s lips, but the more he considered it the more he liked the idea. He closed the gap between them, keeping the kiss gentle, thankful.

“…L, you were meant to be saying nice things,” Light complained, afterwards once they were settling to sleep.

“Oh,” L frowned at him. “I thought I was.”


	13. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With L and Near closing in on both sides, the killer makes a desperate move that causes Mello to completely lose his cool in a rather risky way.

“He is running out of A’s,” L reminded the team in the early hours of the morning over a stack of Light’s home cooked chocolate and apple turnovers, a dish that they all indulged in with enthusiasm. “The police have guarded them well. There is no way he has killed them yet, even by poison, and if he tries to kill them today we will catch him. Mello, you will be guarding Alice in Epcot. She is almost certainly the prime target for him now. Near has taken control of protection of the other remaining A, so we can focus all our attention here. We catch our killer today.”

L’s confidence was contagious, as Mello dressed up that day as the March Hare with a fluffy blonde tail attached to an eccentric yellow pinstriped three-piece suit, his make-up done to allow attachment of whiskers with the Wammy’s silicon spray and a huge pair of rabbit ears, one pointed upwards the other tipping down halfway up, attached to his head.

“You have seen the photographs of our targets, but they are likely to be in disguise,” L reminded pointlessly; Mello knew this. “Since they are unlikely to be able to get close, we must consider the possibility of a ranged weapon this time. We know that the killer does not mind changing his methods. A blow gun would be easiest to get past security, perhaps tipped with the toxin he used earlier in the week. There is no cure for batrachotoxin, so if anyone is hit they must be considered dead already and no time can be wasted attempting to save lives. If this is the case, you will have to be watching everyone near the Mad Hatter’s tea party set. You will be up high to get a good view, perched on the tower of chairs at the back.”

“Forensics have also been reported on Rafiki’s chocolate box. As predicted, on this occasion the killer was careless – there is a finger print. No match in the police database, but that doesn’t matter. It will be either Colby or Lindsay; catch the killer and the fingerprint is enough evidence with the rest of what we have gathered to make a good case in the courts, especially if once caught the killer does confess as I expect he will. All that is left is to catch the killer, whether that be one of the two, or both.”

“You make it sound simple,” Mello complained, adjusting the rabbit ears. They were itchy where they attached to his hair and scalp. “Just catch the killer that the police haven’t caught in all these weeks.”

“Are you a Wammy’s house orphan or aren’t you?” L pointed out. However, consoling, he did hand Mello a bar of dark chocolate. “We’ve got him – you just need to close this.”

“As you say, general,” Mello grinned with a military salute, stamping his fluffy-booted paw-feet together.

“Aye, captain,” Ryuk could not adapt his outfit for their outing as any additional clothing would be visible, but for as long as they were in the house he had donned a pirate hat and an eye patch from Mello’s collection and had been swooping around, knocking several objects off shelves with a (fortunately) toy sword. “Shiver me timbers! Hey, Akane, what part of your human squishy bits are the timbers?”

“You know, Ryuk, I’m not sure,” Mello pretended to consider seriously. “Maybe… this bit?”

It was difficult to work out where Mello pulled out his own plastic sword from, but as it poked sharply into Ryuk’s belly, the Shinigami doubled over before he could phase out of physical existence.

“Oh, it’s on!” the Shinigami growled, his sword swinging wildly. Mello pursued him around the room, landing dozens of blows whenever the Shinigami became solid.

“Is Ryuk going with him?” Light asked L as the two knocked over the recently replaced couch.

“I believe so.”

“Do you think he will help?”

“I doubt it but it’s for Mello, so perhaps.”

“He’s worried,” Light realised, “he thinks Mello might get hurt. He’s going in case he needs to protect Mello.”

“No,” L denied. “He trusts Mello to look after himself. He’d be a fool not to. But, he has seen how much Mello wants this case to be over – the distress that it is causing him to think that Near might be involved, and I think he wants to help prove it either way.”

“It’s really going to hurt Mello if Near was a part of this, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” there was not a shadow of a doubt in L’s voice. “They grew up together. They were even friends when they were very young, before they became competitive. It will be painful for Mello if it turns out Near is another Beyond.”

“Like it was for you?” Light asked. L was silent for a long time, and Light wondered if he had pushed too far.

“Worse,” L admitted, his voice bored – the emotionless front he faced cases with. “I only knew Beyond a little at the time when he went rogue from Wammy’s House. It was always more the potential of what was lost than what brief friendship either of us shared. Mello and Near, they’ve been friends and enemies for about a decade. I… don’t honestly think I can fairly assess how much damage it would do to Mello to lose Near for good.”

“But they aren’t even friends anymore,” Light argued.

“Mello was abandoned to an orphanage by his drug addicted mother and his sexually and physically abusive mob boss father at the age of four, but the loss of his parents still pains him,” L revealed. “Near only ever tried to out-compete him. There is no comparison.”

Light studied Mello where he was hanging from the curtains and swinging his sword at the Shinigami suspended from the ceiling and fighting, upside down. It was easy, when working cases with the teenager, to forget just how young Mello actually was. Light stored the information L had told him away for later, reconciling it with the brash youth he had come to know.

“Avast ye, matey!” Ryuk scuttled along the ceiling on all fours, waving his plastic sword around wildly enough to shatter one of the light bulbs.

“Who introduced Ryuk to pirates?” Light asked as he steeled himself to end the teenager’s game and encourage him to get to work. If it hadn’t been important he wouldn’t have had the heart to do so; Mello’s smile was lighting up the room as he play-fought.

“Mello showed him a film called Pirates of the Caribbean as research for the case,” L reminded him, ducking out of the path of Mello’s sword which went flying as the curtain rail finally snapped; Ryuk caught the boy before he could hit the floor.

Of course, Light remembered the peace and quiet obtained from Mello halting Disney karaoke and changing to a show he couldn't sing along with, but if he had expected the result to be so destructive he would have encouraged other viewing. The living room would again need to be re-worked, particularly the glass items which had been shattered across the floor.

“Mello,” Light interrupted. Ryuk had not put the boy down, conscious of the scattered glass and the thin soles of Mello’s costume shoes. Therefore, Mello was snuggled into the Shinigami’s chest whilst Ryuk carried him over the dangerous parts of the floor. “The park opens in one hour and you need to be in place by then.”

The speed that Mello’s playful expression changed to serious and workman-like was impressive, even for a Wammy’s resident. Light was almost disappointed as Mello insisted that Ryuk put him down, swiftly checking that all of his weapons remained concealed within the yellow pinstripe jacket and brushing off any fragments of glass embedded into the fabric. A quick correction to the rabbit ears and he was ready, looking at least five years older than he had a moment before when clinging to the curtain.

After a short car journey, chauffeured by Watari, the team arrived at Epcot. L had his office for the day set up away from the entrance this time, though the officers and guards at the entrance to the park and employees throughout had been given photos of the two suspects to watch out for and surveillance cameras were located so that there was not an inch of the park not visible to L.

Mello took his position on top of the stack of chairs at the back of the Mad Hatter’s tea party performance, making a show of bending cutlery in his role as the March Hare and drinking hot chocolate rather than tea. Ryuk moved above the crowd, scouring the faces more closely and occasionally checking pockets of anyone he considered suspicious, just to make sure they had no weapons.

“Facial recognition software will be running through three international computer networks to quickly identify either of our suspects when they are seen,” L told Light when he was questioned for not watching the screens and instead working on trying to find more information on Colby and Lindsay.

“What would you have me do?” Light asked, willing to take direction.

“You will be in charge of collecting any decoys and questioning,” L told him. “And, if necessary and it really looks like the killer will not reveal himself, you will be bait.”

“Bait?”

“Death to Kira, Yagami Raito,” L quoted the killer’s intended message. “If he knows who you are, seeing you in the crowd, there is a very good chance he would try to kill you. If he breaks his pattern and doesn’t come after Alice, we will need to protect you.”

“Why did you choose Alice?” Light asked, knowing that there was one other A and that L had messaged Near to coordinate who would defend which of the two.

“M,” L explained. “Y-A-G-A-M… if the killer wants to clear two letters in one go he could come to the Mad Hatter’s tea party to kill Alice and the Mad Hatter for the M as well.”

“Of course,” Light nodded. “But, there are plenty of other M’s and we already know he is currently making one kill per day.”

“Out of necessity, I believe, rather than choice,” L’s toes were fidgeting, the only sign that he was restless for there to be some conclusion. “We have him on the back foot, and now he knows we’re close to catching him. He’s getting desperate.”

The telephone rang nearly an hour later.

“L,” Near’s unaltered voice sounded down the phone line.

“Near, have you seen something?

“Not at all, but there has been a complication in front of the park, where your cameras do not reach.”

“A complication?” L questioned.

“Sir,” a guard rushed into the office before Near could explain, clutching a stitch in his chest. It was clear he had run all the way there from the opposite side of the park. “A child is dead – a skewer, we think – she was dressed in costume!”

“Costume?” L’s eyes widened.

“She was dressed as Alice,” Light confirmed with the guard, who nodded. “Damn it. He hasn’t hurt anyone except the staff before. We had him cornered, and he knew it.”

“If he is willing to go after children now… Near,” L unmuted the phone. “The order should come from both of us. We must evacuate the parks – all of them. Disney and Universal.”

“But then we won’t be able to catch the killer,” Near refused.

“Near, this has gone on long enough,” Light spoke imperiously, leaving no room for argument. “A child is dead; the rules of the game have changed. We can’t take the risk that another child will die; we have to evacuate the parks. If we can’t catch the killer red handed there must be another way. If you would work with us, if we could share what each of the investigations has found…”

“This is bigger than this one case,” Near was unaffected. “This is about the title of L, and I will _not_ lose. If you choose to evacuate the parks, you just move the playing field. The game continues.”

“We could just kill both of them,” Light suggested to L as soon as Near ended the call. “If they’re killing children now, killing them both is a necessary sacrifice.”

“No,” L refused, holding out his hand to take the Death Note from Light, who handed it over with some reluctance. “We’re so close… We’re almost there, he’s desperate now, he will make more mistakes…”

“None of that matters if he kills another child,” Light argued. “Please, L, you must see from my perspective…”

“I do, Light-Kira,” L sighed heavily. “But we must do this right, this time.”

Light did understand L’s perspective too. If Beyond and especially if Near were involved, L would feel responsible for their crimes due to their connection to him. The murderer, no matter what he was doing, was at least influenced by Beyond into committing his crimes and most likely needed help in a psychiatric institution rather than death.

“Near,” Mello’s voice was audible through the connection with his ear piece. L and Light both turned to the relevant surveillance screen, seeing that Mello was on his phone.

“Watari, feed us the audio from Mello’s mobile phone,” L demanded, pushing his chair so that it was right in front of the computer screen showing the video feed.

“… eight-year-old, blonde, female, stabbed through the base of the skull and upwards. The skewer was moved side to side in a clumsy attempt to sever the brain stem,” Near’s emotionless voice filled the room as the conversation with Mello was fed through the speakers. “She would have died quickly.”

“Thank you, Near,” Mello’s voice was also perfectly emotionless in response. L’s long fingers gripped at the edge of the computer table, his knuckles white.

“Evacuate the park,” L spoke into the phone corresponding to Watari. “Do it now, it’s not just the killer we have to worry about.”

“L, what do you mean?” Light studied the video feed for any other danger.

“Mello,” L breathed, hanging up the phone with Watari and activating the ear piece to Mello. “talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mello’s voice was still that cold, emotionless tone and now Light looked to him on the video footage he was unnaturally still.

“I was about to,” L promised. “Near was just faster.”

A snarling sound tore down the phone line.

“Mello,” Light tried, “you can’t do this now, not here…”

That snarling sound again, and Mello was moving – just one arm, but L yelled and threw himself out of his chair, dragging Light down under the table as whatever Mello had thrown hit the wall of the building they were concealed in and exploded, the concrete of the wall crumbling down on top of the table. Light coughed as the dust invaded his lungs, his ears ringing from the explosion.

“Grenade,” L told him swiftly, clambering out from under the table and searching the fleeing crowd with his eyes for the teenager. “At least that will clear the park…”

“Why did he have a grenade in the first place?” Light demanded once his chest cleared enough to do so and he untangled himself from below the desk, his whole body aching from the impact with the floor.

“It’s Mello,” L reminded, moving in the direction of shouts from the crowd. Light followed in a rush, pushing his way through the fleeing civilians. He noticed then that L had a gun in his hand.

“L,” Light caught hold of the barrel of the pistol, tearing it out of the detective’s grasp. “You can’t shoot Mello!”

“I might have to,” L snatched the weapon back. “Don’t underestimate him when he gets like this – you saw the photos of Wammy’s.”

The crowd were subsiding now, most having fled the area already; L and Light finally managed to make headway towards Mello, who had thrown further grenades, destroying several of the set pieces but fortunately not any of the crowd or visitor attractions yet.

“Keep the area clear,” L instructed Light, moving to approach Mello. Light caught his arm, stopping him as he watched Ryuk descending towards the teenager. Mello took out one of his guns and emptied the clip into Ryuk’s not solid form.

“Wait,” Light requested, encouraging L to remain where he was. The area was clear for now, they could wait and see how this played out with the help of the Shinigami.

They were not close enough to hear Mello and Ryuk’s words, and the audio feed had stopped working when the first grenade had exploded the office wall. However, once the guns were all out of bullets and the only option Mello would have was his fists and feet, the boy launched himself at the Shinigami, not listening to whatever Ryuk was trying to say to him.

“At least he can’t hurt him,” Light reassured L, who stopped straining against Light’s restraint as the Shinigami caught hold of Mello; Mello was too clever, and too capable of escaping such a restraint, but no matter how many times he got free from Ryuk and hit, kicked and bit the Shinigami, Ryuk remained solid and took the blows, catching and restraining the teenager over and over again until at long last, nearly an hour of fighting later, an exhausted Mello slumped into Ryuk’s arms, shoulders shaking with intense sobs.

“We should get to work,” L suggested to Light when the younger man looked like he might approach the pair. It was clear that they needed their space, and since Ryuk had done such a good job with containing Mello they would be better off leaving them to each other’s comfort and getting on with their jobs.

“Yes, of course…” Light reluctantly turned away from the scene, moving with L toward the entrance of the now empty park.

“Agent Ryuzaki, Agent Chan” one of the guards rushed to them as they approached the gates. “I can’t tell you how happy we all are to see that you’re alright. We were starting to worry you had been caught in the explosion… did the guard reach you? There has been another murder…”

“A child, eight years old, dressed as Alice,” Light confirmed that they were up to speed.

“No, another one,” the guard looked beyond the entrance to a large white tent that had already been erected by investigators to preserve the scene. “It’s the Mad Hatter guy. The blood trail leads back a few hundred yards into the park, he must have been stabbed during the evacuation.”

“This is important,” L told the guard swiftly. “I need you to think carefully – are there any characters, any at all in the park today that would have the letter I as the first letter of their character name?”

“I?” the guard did seem to consider carefully. “No, not at Epcot, not unless someone was in costume from the general public.”

“Thank you,” L nodded. “Could you confirm that whilst we inspect the body?”

“Yes, of course.”

L moved towards the white tent, Light following half a step behind. Investigations, he was familiar with, but he was less familiar with crime scenes and understanding crime scene etiquette did not mean he would be as useful at deducing information from them than L, who had been doing this for much longer.

Beneath the thin paper of the crime scene tent, the body looked almost as uninjured as one of Kira’s kills; the skewer wound was to the chest, like the killer’s earliest victims, and the blood had mostly pooled internally – when the guards spoke of a blood trail, this was made up of drips alone.

“Let us go to the other,” L suggested to Light after a few moments once he had deduced all that he could – without forensic testing – from the Hatter’s body.

The child’s corpse was far more horrible. In the warmth of Florida, flies had already started to pick up on the dead body’s presence and several managed to get in when the tent opened to allow L and Light entry. It was early for lividity to be fixed, but the blood was already pooled by gravity to the base of the corpse, leaving the back of the child flushed and her front pale. The little blonde, innocent child’s blue eyes looked terrified and fixed to the ceiling, no wounds evident at all from the front – hidden at the back of her neck, where a pool of translucent fluid pooled on the ground.

Light glared down at the body, resolve hardening.

“L, we have to solve this case before anyone else dies,” he spoke firmly, the blood red gleam of Kira showing through in his eyes. “Or I will kill both suspects straight away, no matter what you have to say about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Mello’s outfit, google ‘March Hare ballet’


	14. Decoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambushes and traps are set, the team clear the playing field, and Light tries something new.

“I found him,” L told Light first thing the next morning. Both had remained awake for many hours through the night, working on the case, but Light had eventually had no choice but to succumb to a brief sleep if he wanted to function to his full abilities that day.

Mello had returned to the house with Ryuk separately from them and had gone straight to his room. The damage done to the park had been paid for by Watari, the process smoothed over before Mello could be arrested for the explosives or the damage done by them.

“Who?”

“Douglas Colby,” L sounded impatient, bouncing on his tiptoes in a way that was almost like Beyond’s rocking. “Come, see.”

Light and Mello crowded round the computers, trying not to fill the same space as Ryuk who also took interest in the information on the screens.

Douglas Colby – Light had seen that face before, but he could not recall where. Whoever he was had barely registered with Light at the time. He began to read through the information, his eyes widening as he understood.

“Beyond Birthday’s current day guard? But he said that he wore headphones whenever he went into the cell with Beyond?”

“The guards do not sit in the cell, they watch surveillance cameras,” L reminded Light. “There is a volume dial, in case they need to hear what he is saying. They aren’t meant to turn it on, but if Beyond has been messing with Douglas, he could easily make him do so.”

“He has current access to Beyond,” Light agreed, reading through more of the information. He frowned.

“Ah, you see it too?” L sprung from his chair, activating his laptop and opening the file for the Douglas Colby listed there as Beyond’s guard.

“He’s not the same man,” Light realised. “He’s an imposter.”

“He looks similar enough, but the freckle pattern is wrong,” Mello considered the two photos side by side.

“Not Douglas Colby, then?”

“Perhaps the original was the imposter; it is not possible to say for sure,” L reminded Light. “However, even though I am quite sure that if this Douglas is the one responsible for the murders, either alone or together with Lindsay, Kira cannot just write his name in the Death Note. The two look similar, and we can’t be sure this is his real name or who is the real culprit.”

“We have to catch him then,” Light agreed. “We will catch him today.”

“Yes,” L agreed, closing the laptop with a click. “There is only one ‘I’ left in all the parks – we will be there, and so will Near. The Disney parks are all closed, so we only have the Universal ones for the police to cover, more than doubling the number of officers available as well. Unless he does not come to the park at all, there is no way he can escape today.”

“He will be well armed,” Mello looked at Light and L, dressed only in their normal clothing. “I’ve got spare bullet proof vests and equipment. You should dress properly for this one.”

“Thank you, Mello,” L accepted the vest that Ryuk retrieved from Mello’s expansive walk in wardrobe. The vests and other equipment would not be necessary if L were to stay at the house as a base of operations, but since Light was going to be going, L was reluctant to leave him. He lied to himself by thinking that he was reluctant to let Light out of his sight for the safety of others; it was more Light’s safety that bothered him. He was a potential target in this case.

“When we come back here tonight, we will have caught the killer,” Light assured L, noticing a little bit of worry in the detective’s eyes and misinterpreting its cause. He wrapped his arms around the slouched man, helping him to fasten the vest behind him. “Since Colby has a direct connection to Beyond, the chances that Near is involved must have decreased?”

“Yes,” L smiled a little, reassuringly, at Mello who looked on with interest awaiting the answer. “Yes, it’s more like 35% now.”

“That’s good,” Ryuk assured Mello, clapping him on the shoulder.

“But,” L dampened the mood again. “We must be wary. If Near is involved, he won’t just be trying to catch the killer before us, he might try to get actively in the way of us catching him. Even if he isn’t involved, he won’t want to lose our game and so he might get in the way of us catching the killer anyway.”

Light collected L’s costume from Ryuk’s hands, helping the detective to pull on the stretchy green one-piece suit from his feet upwards. L let him do it, helping only by lifting his feet for Light to pull each leg’s material over them. Golden accessories followed, made of light plastic, and then an oversized hat. He stepped back, studying the look.

“It would probably work better if you stood up straight?” he suggested, L’s usual slouch spoiling the look of the comic book interpretation of Loki. L huffed, but did straighten his posture, the additional height making him over an inch taller than Light. It felt strange to be looking up at him rather than looking down; something about it made Light’s breath catch momentarily, spying an opportunity.

“Better?” L confirmed before returning to his usual slouch. “I will straighten again if I must; standing like that reduces my deductive abilities by…”

“A made up number,” Light complained, moving closer. “Stand up again?”

L scowled but followed Light’s instructions. Light had to stand on the balls of his feet to kiss L; something about that felt very strange indeed. He allowed L to take the lead and deepen the kiss, humming his approval as the detective’s hands tangled in his hair, but he felt unsatisfied. Still, if letting L take the lead, no matter how strange it felt, was what convinced the detective to accept a relationship he would try to get used to it.

Ryuk’s wolf whistle broke them apart.

“Finally!” Mello laughed at them. “You’ve had sex, haven’t you?”

“Sorry, Mello, I’m still not sure you’d be able to convince Near to pay up on your bet,” Light denied, removing L’s hands from where they still clutched at his hair.

“We need to get you dressed, too,” L told Light, tempted to pull him into the bedroom and take some time to do so, but stopping himself since time was limited. Ryuk dropped the outfit at Light’s feet, all red and blue and silver with a slightly less extravagant helmet – with wings rather than horns. He allowed L to help him into the very form fitting trousers, then once he had started Light allowed him to finish, the gesture of L dressing him more comfortable than undressing had been, yet still feeling strangely intimate.

Mello dressed while they prepared; he would have preferred a Spiderman outfit but that would leave almost no where to hide any weaponry, so he had settled for Captain America – still form fitting, but all manner of things could be hidden in the back of the curved shield and combat boots.

The target that day – the only character with an ‘I’ at the start of the name – was Iron Man, in the Marvel region of the Islands of Adventure park at Universal. With the team dressed as the other costumed characters they would be able to join in with the parades and get as close as they needed to the potential victim without being seen as out of place by the crowd. The costumes could be covered with the long black coats they all carried, for the rest of the time when they needed to move amongst the crowds at all.

“You know,” Ryuk had mentioned to them casually as he surveyed their outfits on their way to the park – Loki, Thor and Captain America. “I’m sure I’ve seen people with these outfits from another portal in the Shinigami realm. Maybe I should take you to visit it someday, Akane?”

“That sounds interesting, Ryuk, but I’m needed here,” Mello grinned. “Besides, a world with this sort of superhero probably wouldn’t have much use for detectives like us.”

“Not for work, Akane, for fun!” Ryuk complained, “we could get you one of those suits that let you fly, then we could go flying together properly!”

“Well, maybe one day,” Mello allowed, grinning as he thought about it. “If there’s a good break between cases, we could take Near too?”

Light glanced at L, looking for the older detective’s reaction. L was expressionless; of course, 36% was still a high number, too high to have any confidence that Near could be cleared.

“Aww, but Near’s such a downer,” Ryuk complained, waving his hands to emphasise the point. “Can’t we just go?”

“What about if we bring Kit and Koinu and L and Light as well?” Mello asked. “You could bring Rem, if she wants to too?”

“I guess,” Ryuk huffed, phasing through the roof of the car to perch on top where he had more space.

“I’m needed here,” Mello told Light after a minute. “If I’m going to be the next L, I can’t afford to get distracted by going on childish adventures.”

“You are a child,” Light reminded him.

“No,” Mello fixed his gaze on Light, determination shining through them. “I’m a Wammy’s House orphan, and I’m going to be L someday. That’s what matters.”

Light nodded, accepting but having seen Mello having such fun at times over the last several days and learning more of the things he had experienced in his life, he felt that he should encourage the teen to enjoy whatever opportunities he could.

“Focus,” L interrupted them. “We cannot afford any distractions.”

The rest of the journey passed in silence, with the team each finding suitable positions for the day’s events. The sheer number of police present in the park that day was obvious, but it was not their job to prevent entry to the killer; they would be responsible for blocking the exits, not the entrances, once he was inside. L set up with his computers, watching for either Colby or Lindsay to enter the park.

“Could he be a decoy?” Light asked when L told him into his ear piece that he had spotted Lindsay on the cameras.

“Absolutely, which is why you will follow him rather than Mello,” L told him simply. “Mello will go after Colby – he will need the additional fire power.”

“Understood,” Light agreed, following the man into the park. The helmet had been removed, the costume covered by a long black coat and if needed he had the FBI identification in his pocket.

Daniel Lindsay was unkempt, clothing dirty and evidently unwashed for several days. The creases made it appear that he had been sleeping on a park bench or a similar hard surface out in the open. The overall state of him made Light wonder where he would have the money to buy tickets for the parks on so many occasions; he wondered if the man had even been eating in order to save whatever money he could likely gather from donations begging on the street to enter the parks.

There was something else about Lindsay as well. His posture not quite vertical but not stooped in the same way as L’s; a rigid lower back, with stooped forward shoulders and all of his limb joints bent round, flexed. His hands faced backwards and did not swing with his walk, his facial expression blank at all times.

“L,” Light reported back. “Lindsay has been getting treatment – he looks like he’s been taking _very_ high doses of antipsychotics.”

“That would be a good thing, but if he is here today it might mean the treatments aren’t working no matter how much he is taking,” L considered. “Either way, he wouldn’t be here unless he was involved. Do you think you can bring him in?”

“Of course,” Light agreed. “The only issue will be doing it quietly. I need to get him somewhere less crowded.”

Universal, like Disney, was preparing for Halloween approaching with a number of special events. It seemed no matter that a child had died in the Disney park the day before; thousands of people had turned out to the park anyway – perhaps fewer than there would normally have been, but the place was still busy. Light would have been less subtle if Lindsay had been their prime suspect, but it was imperative that he was taken in with the minimal amount of disruption to make sure Colby wouldn’t suspect anything more than the usual police guards.

Light considered several plans, plotting and reconsidering as Lindsay moved through the park, waiting for a suitable moment. It seemed he wasn’t going far; into one of the park restaurants near the Marvel area, where they expected the murder would be attempted later in the day.

There was an opportunity here, learning what they had used from Livia Sala. Light was fairly certain that if Lindsay was not the killer, the reason he was at the park would be much like hers; drawn by something B had instructed somewhere along the line; by something in the pattern of killings.

“Daniel Lindsay,” he altered his voice as much as he could, carefully dulling all hint of any Japanese accents present and toning it instead with a hint of British. He was extremely precise in his impression; he did not sound like L, or like B, but there was a definite recognisable connection in the voice he tried to use. Enough, he hoped, to trigger whatever connection the man held with B.

Lindsay spun. Light had allowed his hair to fall over his eyes, about two inches longer than he would usually keep it after his time in confinement and working with L. A haircut hadn’t even crossed his mind, and it proved useful now allowing him to hide much of his face just with his hair. He was not sure if others could see the blood red that would gleam in his eyes when he was scheming or thinking of killing, but in learning to mask the feature from L when he bothered to do so he had gained some control over it; he allowed it to show through now. If Lindsay could see it, he would be familiar with it from Beyond, no doubt, which would only emphasise the plan Light was trying to put into motion.

“You have done well,” he praised, the accent easy to emulate since he spent so much of his time around the natural English speakers now; a British accent always had suited villains, and Light poured evil into his tone even as he spoke the compliment. “But now you should come with me.”

“Did he send you?” Lindsay gasped, studying Light warily.

“All your questions will be answered if you come with me now,” Light explained. Quietly, so it would not be overheard by the curious onlookers, he continued. “You can continue to be useful if you come now. Beyond has another task for you.”

Lindsay laughed, drawing the eyes of everyone in the café. It was a mad laugh; like Livia Sala’s, like Beyond’s.

“Will he let me go after that?” the man asked. “Will he be quiet?”

“I will make sure of it,” Light lied, guiding the man from the shop and into the street, disappearing down a small path between buildings and taking him through the backstage areas to the room containing the cells and L.

“Wait, no!” Lindsay gasped on seeing the cage, eyes wide and wild, ready to fight his way out. Light drew a gun from his pocket, pointing it to the man’s head.

“Walk,” he threatened. L had turned from his computers and watched with a detached expression as Light forced Lindsay into one of the cages. “Should we question him now or wait?”

“Wait,” L told him with certainty. “If he was here to provide a distraction we can expect Colby to arrive soon.”

“Mello, movement on the far right of the line – I can’t get a clear view of the face,” L told the teenager before Light could leave the building. Light paused, deciding to remain for the moment and studied the figure that L was pointing out.

The signal from Mello’s ear piece was poor and interspaced with white noise. He must have been close to the end of its transmission range.

“… poorly disguised… not sure if it is… take the chance?”

L considered for a moment.

“No,” he decided. “Follow him; I will send Light to intercept. Don’t make a move until we know for sure that it’s him.”

“Where is Near?” Light asked L, considering the layout of the park and the arrangement of the officers, the cameras giving him an overall view. “This shouldn’t be so simple.”

“He still has time to make a move. There is also the question of where Iron Man has been for the last hour.”

“What do you mean?” Light asked curiously, glancing through the cameras and spotting no sign of the character, although that was not surprising given the size of the park and the limit on the number of cameras that could be seen at any one time on the screens.

“Just over one hour ago, the actor in the Iron Man costume suit went into the changing room and undressed. Near’s men came and took him away, most likely to keep him safe since they were very obvious about it and if he were to die now, it would be obvious that Near was involved. However, the suit remained in the changing room only for a few minutes. Then the cameras were deactivated for a number of minutes, and when they activated the Iron Man suit was gone.”

“So Near has had one of his men put on the suit?” Light suggested, considering this highly likely.

“We can assume so,” L agreed, “But since that time, the suit has not been used in the public areas, either. I have noticed it just once on the backstage cameras leading to the Jurassic Park area of the park.”

“Why would the killer think to look there?”

“I believe Near is trying to draw the killer, and the capture, away from where we have made our base,” L told Light. “When he is ready, the person in the Iron Man suit will reveal themselves to the public and then wait until the killer has had time to hear where he can find him.”

“So, we need to move our operations?”

“No,” L took a bite of white chocolate bread pudding he had acquired from the front of the park, the latest in a string of sweet treats he had acquired as they arrived. He waved the spoon as if conducting music. “The guards and police officers remain here, otherwise Near will move the operation again. You and Mello should go there. Mello will follow Colby – you will go ahead of him now. I believe you will find the Jurassic Park visitor centre will be closed for the day. That is where Near will try whatever he has planned; it will be your plan to get in his way long enough for Mello to catch Colby.”

“If Near has a trap that will work, shouldn’t we use it?”

“Not in favour of Near,” L took another bite of pudding, talking with his mouth full. “If we do that, Near wins. We can’t let Near win.”

“Of course,” Light agreed, “But if things go wrong?”

“They won’t.” L’s spoon clattered against the porcelain plate. “I _will_ win this.”

Light studied the detective’s back. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand L’s perspective, it was only that so many things _had_ gone wrong so far in their investigation. To Light, using a trap set by Near to their own advantage didn’t feel like giving up, so long as they used it against him. However, to L, this would be a loss too great to accept as collateral damage. To L it would be like cheating.

“We’re behind you,” Light nodded. He removed the Death Note from the inside pocket of the long coat, considering it silently before holding it out to L. The detective stared at it for a long minute as well before taking it carefully between pinched fingers. “Nothing will go wrong. But, if it does, do you think you would be able to use this?”

“Yes,” L set the book down carefully beside his bowl of pudding, accepting the pen Light gave him as well. “But do not rely on me doing so. I will only use this if there is no other option.”

“I understand.”


	15. Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near takes a chance to bait both the killer, and the team. Both sides are going for the win, but perhaps not the same goal.

Light filled the now empty pocket with an additional gun and left L to his footage, quickly checking the progress of Mello and the man suspected of being Colby through the park. He found them still in the Marvel area, but bearing in mind L’s instruction he did not go there, instead making his way behind the scenes through to the Jurassic Park area of the park and emerging onto a path through some trees, passing a gigantic animatronic dinosaur as he did.

He did not risk entering the visitor centre, since L suggested it was the base of operations for Near’s team, but set himself up opposite the main entrance, not bothering to truly hide since Near would likely have seen his arrival on the hidden cameras around the park anyway. Light was sure this was how L knew that Near was using the visitor centre; they had hidden some cameras there, but none of them remained active to reveal what they were doing there.

“He’s coming out of the building,” Light told L through the ear piece, spotting movement behind the glass doors as the Iron Man suit, inhabited by an unknown operative from Near’s team, emerged from the front entrance. “How will the killer find out?”

“The easiest way would be to send guards up to him where the killer could see them leaving,” L suggested in Light’s ear. “If Near is involved the killer will be wary of this.”

“You should do it,” Light suggested. L did not answer him, presumably passing on the instructions.

Light watched as the Iron Man figure began to draw a crowd by wrestling with one of the animatronic dinosaurs – as believable a reason as any for him to be out of place in the park. This would not do; he needed to know the location of the killer so that they would not be able to get close to Iron Man.

“Where…?”

“I’m patching you through to Mello,” L snipped, cutting off the connection to Light’s ear piece.

“Mello?” Light asked, moving around the gathering crowd so he had a better view of the entrance to the Jurassic Park area.

“Kira,” Mello’s voice greeted him. “We’re just approaching the entrance now. Is the target secure?”

Light glanced at the growing crowd.

“No, but there are about a hundred witnesses close by,” he told Mello. As if on cue, Light saw the suspicious figure from earlier step into view around the corner just as Iron Man apologised to the crowd and went inside.

“We have to catch him now,” Light prompted, moving in to place between the suspect and the visitor centre. “He will try to follow inside and then Near has control of the building.”

“Ready when you are,” Mello told him, a gun pulled out from behind his costume shield.

“It’s Captain America!” one of the children in the crowd shouted, rushing across before her mother could stop her and latching on to Mello’s leg, looking up at him with delight. “You’re my favourite, Captain!”

“Let go of me!” Mello snarled, gently shaking his leg to get the girl off. Light had no time to be concerned about Mello; the suspect was moving quickly for one of the fire exits to the building which Light realised too late was on the latch. Silently he cursed Near; the boy must have spotted their arrival and made it possible for the suspect to get inside the building a different way. It was too late; the door was closer to the suspect than to Light. He pulled out the gun, took aim and fired a shot, but he had not practiced with the weapon and it was not like a hunting rifle; the shot flew wide and then it was too late; the suspect was inside.

“Move!” Mello shouted, having shaken off the girl and pushing Light in the direction of the main door when the fire door swung shut behind Colby.

Light threw his weight against the entrance door but it was locked; he bounced away. Without a second’s pause, Mello fired on the latch, bursting the door open with a kick once it was released.

“Go left,” Mello commanded quietly in the silent building; the only sound was that of their breathing. Light held his gun at the ready, taking the left path around the open-centred balcony whilst Mello went right. Light passed a locked store front whilst Mello was slower, having to check an open restaurant alcove. Once he was back into view, the two covered one another as they went down the stairs to the first floor.

The whole building was eerily quiet; most of the lights were turned off, giving it an eerie feel. Mello’s eyes covered the ground quickly, taking in every detail and suddenly following a trail that Light couldn’t spot, directly in the direction of a door to a back office.

The door was locked; the shots that Mello fired to burst the mechanism deafening in the silent space. Light kept his eyes on all other entrances to the room, half expecting the killer to emerge at any moment.

“They’re leading him down,” Mello spoke very quietly, so that Light wouldn’t have heard him without the ear piece. “He’s desperate enough to follow them into the basement. They mean to trap him there.”

The ear piece suddenly buzzed, a high pitch deafening noise. As quickly as Light reached up a hand to remove it from his ear the sound stopped.

“What was that?” he demanded, loud in the quiet space. Mello had fallen still, appearing to be listening to something else.

“Light,” he looked almost apologetic. “Stay here. If you can, get in touch with L, get him here as quickly as you can.”

“Mello, what’s going on?” Light demanded. He tightened his grip on the gun, suspecting…

Mello was making his way through the door and down the stairs beyond, ignoring Light’s question.

The ear piece was useless now, burned. That was what had caused the noise; Light removed it and used his phone instead.

“L, are you seeing any of this?”

“Yes,” L confirmed.

“What about below?”

“No, not there.”

“You don’t think…” Light paused, considering probabilities and deciding that the question was indeed worth asking, “Is Mello working with Near? Has he gone to help Near catch Colby on his own?”

“You know it is possible,” L sounded resigned.

“What should I do?”

“As they say,” L instructed. “Stay where you are. There is only one entrance and exit – make sure no one leaves. I will be with you soon.”

The phone clicked as L hung up and Light was left in the silence.

 

* * *

 

Mello descended the stairs slowly, the door closing behind him and leaving him in darkness in the corridor, drawn towards the light from the room below. He held his gun at the ready, taking care on every step and listening to the sound of banging fists on a door below.

The room he entered was a strategist’s worst nightmare; a small room, with half a dozen alcoves and doorways in which an attacker could hide. The pounding came from a door at the opposite end, the wood shaking a little with each impact.

In the very centre of the floor, scattered as if by someone running through them, lay a pile of children’s toys – plastic dinosaurs, Marvel figures, and Near’s finger puppets. Mello entered the room cautiously, trying to identify anyone hidden in the alcoves.

There was movement, but Mello forced himself not to react as Ryuk phased through one of the doors, pointing to it silently. Mello nodded, acknowledging the Shinigami and thanking him without words. As soon as they had arrived at the park that day Mello had requested Ryuk find and tail Near, in case the thirteen-year-old was actually working with the killer. Mello didn’t want to think so but he couldn’t deny the possibility any more.

The door Ryuk had pointed to opened, and Iron Man stepped out.

“Near,” Mello greeted as the younger boy removed the helmet of the suit.

“Mello,” Near acknowledged him, crouching to organise the toys back to the arrangement he preferred.

“What are you doing?” Mello demanded, kicking one of the figurines that Near had just righted across the room and keeping the gun aimed at the boy.

“We need to talk,” Near looked up from his toys. “That’s how these conversations are meant to start, isn’t it?”

“Stop messing around,” Mello growled, glancing to the door where the pounding continued. “There’s a killer to catch.”

“He’s caught,” Near sounded bored as ever. “We have time. Sit. I would like to talk.”

“Does this mean you think you’ve won?” Mello asked, slowly lowering the gun and storing it away when Ryuk returned from a sweep of the building to confirm that Near was the only one of his team who could get in.

“No,” Near corrected the tyrannosaurus rex model, the arrangement now starting to look recognisably like a map of the park. “It’s not about catching the killer anymore.”

“But you just said he was caught,” Mello grumbled, finally deciding to sit on the floor on the opposite side of the toys to Near, righting one of the Marvel figures.

“He is, but that was never the point,” Near looked at Mello with a judging expression; the expression he held whenever he thought Mello was being stupid again. “It’s not even about just being L anymore.”

“Then what is it about?” Mello questioned. He was sorely tempted to get some chocolate from his pocket, but he resisted.

“I made too many mistakes,” Near admitted, reluctant. “I couldn’t catch the killer alone. I wouldn’t have caught him today if I hadn’t been getting some of my information from L’s system, and from you.”

“You’ve never minded cheating before,” Mello pointed out, flicking a finger puppet Near’s way.

“If I am to be L, I won’t have L’s deductions to use to cheat,” Near clarified. “However, I believe that I could still be L, if you would be too.”

“You’re asking me to join you again?”

“Yes. I need you with me.” Near had arranged the finger puppets accordingly; Near and Mello together, Ryuk, Kira and L as a separate grouping. Mello studied the figures, deciding not to answer for now but that it wouldn’t hurt to ask a question of his own.

“Have you been working with Beyond Birthday?” he asked. Near laughed, pulling a finger puppet of the mad man out of his pocket and setting it besides one of the killer. “Did you create this case?”

“Has L convinced you of that foolishness too?” Near sounded judging again. “No, Mello, I’m not working with B. I thought if I solved this case instead of L I would have my victory; I didn’t realise he was involved either at first. Once I worked that out, I realised why I was making no progress on solving it.”

“I don’t know whether I can believe you,” Mello admitted. “I want to, but you’re such a liar, Near.”

“You have reason not to trust me,” Near glanced up from the toys again, fixing his eyes on Mello. “I know I am asking a lot from you, but you know me better than anyone. Tell me, Mello, am I lying to you? I had no part in the deaths of all these people. I have not been working with Beyond Birthday. I want you to join me, so that together we can surpass L.”

Mello was silent for a long time. He was good at detecting lies, but Near had always been better at telling them.

“You could still come back to us, Near,” Mello offered. “It isn’t too late.”

“Us?” Near laughed. “Mello, if you think L actually needs any of us around, you’re fooling yourself. He doesn’t need us, he just keeps us around for his amusement, and because now he has had friends he would know what it felt like to be lonely. I will not be a pawn on the chess board; I will do this without you before I come back to L.”

“But you said you can’t do it alone,” Mello pointed out.

“There are plenty of other children at Wammy’s,” Near reminded him. “I wonder whether Matt would come out of his video games and play in real life for a change? But I would rather it be you.”

“Near…” Mello wanted to say yes, but he knew that he couldn’t for so many reasons, even as Near stood and offered him a hand. Mello was reminded of the serpent offering Eve the apple. Temptation, but he could not…

“Join me, Mello, and we will leave here together in victory. As you say, I have caught the killer,” Near requested. “Refuse, and I will leave here alone. You can have the killer; that’s not what this is about, I promise you. Either we leave here together, or I have lost the game that matters anyway.”

Mello studied Near, N, his friend and his worst torment; his competition for the title of L. There was a time when he would have raged at Near for making such an offer, back when they competed for the title of L at Wammy’s house. If he believed Near when he swore he had not been working with Beyond Birthday, he could take that hand and walk away from all this, and he and Near could make their own name for themselves as the world’s greatest detective, forgetting the L name perhaps but creating one of their own. He reached out his hand.

“No,” Mello finally breathed, pulling his hand back in at the last moment before his fingers would have brushed Near’s. “Even if you weren’t working with B, I can’t join you, Near. You should come back to the team.”

“You always were foolishly loyal,” there was that judgement again. “If only L cared about you as much as you care about him.”

“It’s more than that,” Mello began.

“It always is,” Near sniffed. “Sentimental fool. Between the two of us, we could win any game, defeat any enemy. We would be unstoppable, and you throw that away for what? An idol who will just continue to use you as a tool for his investigations? The world’s greatest detective who has been compromised by the worst serial killer the world has ever seen?”

“You like Light.”

“Correction, I don’t dislike him,” Near laughed. “I don’t feel anything about him. He’s a killer, Mello, and L has lost. You said it yourself – he’s killing every day, L’s lost control. It’s only a matter of time before he becomes Kira again, properly. All it would take is for him to get bored and it’s all over for L. You can’t honestly say you want to be around when that happens.”

“I do want to be there,” Mello corrected. “Because _if_ it happens, Light will need all of us there to bring him back from the edge, remind him why he is human and not a God.”

“With sentiment?” Near judged. “No. What L is doing – what you are doing, it’s dangerous and foolish and illogical. Surely you must see that?”

“There are more important things than logic,” Mello reminded Near.

“Yes,” Near glanced at the door; there were footsteps on the stairs. It seemed they were running out of time; the cavalry had arrived. He looked back at Mello, offering out his hand one more time. “There’s the win. Come with me, Mello. Please.”

Mello could not remember Near ever using the word ‘please’ before, and it almost startled him into taking the hand, but he shook his head instead.

“I really can’t,” he sighed heavily. “You won’t stay?”

“You know I will not debase myself that way any further,” Near bent to collect his finger puppets from amongst the other toys, stuffing them into his pocket. He pulled out two of his Tarot cards from the same pocket; Justice, and the Devil, the card he used to represent Mello. Neatly he tore them both in two, allowing the pieces to drop freely onto the arranged toys. “This is the last time I will make this offer.”

“No matter how many times you ask, the answer will still be no,” Mello told him, resolute.

“Hmm,” Near’s brow furrowed; a frown actually making him look older than his thirteen years. He glanced at the door where it still shook in its hinges. “Good luck with him. Blowgun and batrachotoxin coated darts, as expected.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Mello huffed, getting to his feet. Near turned to leave, but before the side door could close behind him Mello was determined to try one more thing – a dirty trick. “I will miss you, my friend.”

He had not actually expected the words to make any difference, but the usually unaffected Near hesitated for a moment in his step, not fully stopping but slowing, just for a single pace, before he crossed the threshold.


	16. Colby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case is resolved, and Light continues to try very hard to get L to trust him

In the face of a threat of batrachotoxin, which if it came into contact with the skin would cause death within three minutes or less and for which there was no cure, Ryuk had not allowed Mello to enter the room with Douglas Colby after Near had left. Mello had opened the door opposite for L and Light and the three waited together for Ryuk to remove all weaponry from Colby and bind him with handcuffs. Whilst they waited, Mello explained the bare bones of his conversation with Near; it was obvious that he was leaving out information, but Light would not question him on it. It was clear that whatever had happened was between Mello and Near, and Mello had sounded and looked honest with the things he had told them, including that Near had denied having anything to do with the murders and seemed to have a good explanation.

When Ryuk brought Colby out of the back room, it seemed he really had taken checking for any concealed weapons as Mello had suggested very seriously. The man was entirely naked except for the handcuffs, his eyes boring into the detectives’ defiantly.

“I know you can’t tell us what it is, but is Douglas Colby his real name?” Mello checked with Ryuk, who shook his head no. “What about you, Doug? Have you got a real name you’d like to share?”

“Cameron,” the man told them, still glaring. “Douglas is my brother.”

“You’ve been using his identification and doing his job?” L confirmed.

“Yes,” Douglas shrugged. “Used to do it all the time, we look so alike no one noticed it.”

“Perhaps we should take him back to the cells, and get him some clothes,” Light suggested, uncomfortable with the situation.

“No,” L glanced at Ryuk, who tightened his grip on Cameron’s wrists. Light understood; the intimidation and fear caused by the invisible presence of the Shinigami was more effective here in this underground room whilst the shock was still fresh in Cameron’s mind than it would be in the cell. If they waited he might be more reluctant to answer their questions, and then it would be necessary to use other tactics. Better to get what information they could now. “Did Beyond get to both of you, or just you?”

“Just me,” Colby grimaced at the name Beyond. “I didn’t get the same training as my brother – I turned up the volume of the audio feed. By the time I realised it was a mistake…”

A shudder ran through Colby form, emphasised by his current vulnerable and naked state.

“He was already in my head.”

“Can you hear him now?” L pressed.

“No,” Colby looked disconcerted, seeming to listen intensely. “I haven’t been able to hear him since the door to that room locked.”

“The eight days between words,” L recognised. “That’s when he was updating your instructions.”

“Yes.”

“And this missed gap,” L continued. “The only reason you got caught is that you didn’t take a break, you got sloppy without Beyond’s advice.”

“Yes.”

“Would you make a full confession, on camera?” Light queried, concerned that all this information could be useless in court if L’s cameras were not recording.

“I…” Cameron frowned, seeming to be listening for something. “I think I can… so long as I can’t hear him. If I hear him, he will stop me.”

“He’s lost interest,” L pointed out. “He told you he would, if you lost the game, right?”

“Yes,” Colby looked aghast at L. “How do you know that?”

“Because you’ve stopped hearing him. Whatever he did to influence your mind, he must have also added a kill switch so if you failed you would stop hearing him and therefore we can’t use you to get any insight into his psyche or his plans, aside from what you already know.”

“That sounds right,” Cameron frowned.

“He chose you for your initials,” L continued. “There was nothing else special about you, but your initials are actually CC. The LABB murder cases failed to achieve his goal, and he had you kill Donald Duck first so that it would be DD.”

“Do you think he has a plan for every letter of the alphabet?” Mello mused, an aside.

“I have one further question, and then we can get you covered up and you can tell us the rest, on camera if you would,” L told the murderer. “Have you ever met, heard from or seen a teenage boy with white hair and grey eyes, that looks a little bit like me?”

“No,” Cameron looked confused enough by the question for the answer to be honest. “I’ve not met anyone like that. You look a bit like _him_ though.”

“I am aware,” L accepted. “You are certain you have not encountered Near?”

“I think so,” Cameron nodded. “I can’t remember anyone like that.”

Mello breathed a sigh of relief, moving to take hold of Cameron’s cuffed wrists. Light removed his long coat, wrapping it around the naked man and fastening it at the front so that it covered all necessary areas.

The three must have looked quite the sight as they walked through the backstage area of the park, the word having spread that there had been shots fired in the Jurassic Park area leading to that part of the park being evacuated but masses of staff members gathering to watch the murderer being removed. In their superhero costumes, Loki, Thor and Captain America surrounded Cameron Colby in the long black coat, not restrained by any of them because Ryuk, unseen by the crowd, continued to hold on to the chain between the handcuffs, making sure he could not make any unexpected movements.

When cameras started to flash, L was glad that he had covered his face with a Loki mask; Light had the same for Thor, but Mello only had the Captain America outfit with the very limited areas of his face visible. He was sure that this would make quite a feature on the evening news.

“Watari will remove Daniel Lindsay for psychiatric evaluation,” L told them all as they passed the office. “If Beyond has given him the same kill switch he did Livia Sala, we can’t risk telling him that the plan has failed until he is somewhere safe where he can be restrained. If Beyond has continued the pattern, once Lindsay is told that the plan has failed his hallucinations may well stop as well, and the need for psychiatric treatment will be reduced.”

“Was he a part of the plan?” Light asked Colby as they walked.

“Only a decoy,” Colby confirmed. “At least, as far as I know. He didn’t help with any of the killing.”

“Good enough,” L approved.

“With a full confession, you will be looking at long term protection and treatment in a psychiatric hospital rather than the otherwise inevitable death penalty for your crimes,” Mello reminded Colby, “This cooperation is looking really good for you right now, keep it up.”

“Humans are so interesting,” Ryuk grinned. “It’s not okay to kill people, but it’s okay that he killed people because someone else told him to do it?”

“This isn’t that simple,” L reminded the Shinigami. “But essentially, yes, coercion would be a fair defence at least against the death penalty.”

“And you kill people for killing people?” Ryuk laughed. “Light, you had the right idea with Kira.”

“I know,” Light kept his eyes forward, resisting the temptation to look round at the figure that was invisible to those around them; it wouldn’t do to look like he was hallucinating after all. However, he could feel L's eyes on him. “Maybe I just went a bit too far, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” L scowled at him, scolding silently, whilst Mello looked more concerned. “Now isn’t the time for that conversation again.”

“You’re right,” Light shrugged, getting his FBI identification out as they approached a wall of guards. “Agent Chan, FBI, working under direction of L. These are my colleagues, Agent Ryuzaki and Agent Merlin. We are working under L’s investigation and we have the killer in custody. Allow us to pass.”

Around them the crowd, hearing the declaration by Light, began to clap, a quiet sound at first but as more and more people caught on the applause was deafening, cheers breaking out among them. The cameras of the news reporters and public alike were rolling, photos snapped as the three superhero outfitted detectives moved through the wall of police which parted before them.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, it appeared that Lindsay had been told of the end of the DD murders and had indeed seemed to lose all features of psychosis within minutes, though he did have to have his belt taken away from him by force first as he tried to use it as a ligature. Colby had been very helpful, providing a full and detailed confession which included everything about the murders, aside from what Beyond had done to influence him. He claimed that the memory simply wasn’t there; gone, like it had been lost forever.

Colby also admitted on the table the real reason he had turned up the volume when he was guarding Beyond, why he had encouraged his very well qualified brother to go for the job in the first place. Colby had, under an alias, also worked in the FBI before he became a prison guard. Both Douglas and Cameron Colby had worked in the administrative side of the organisation but they had worked closely at times with the agent Naomi Misora, who had been involved in the capture of Beyond Birthday. When Misora had disappeared under suspicious circumstances – when she had been killed by Kira – the Colby brothers had both wanted the opportunity to find out if B could in some way been involved. In doing so Cameron had left himself open to attack.

L was confident that with psychiatric help this man, who seemed very normal without the influence of Beyond in his mind and forgotten, would be able to return to his life in good time. He had a good life, it seemed; a wife, two children, a dog. The supposed perfect American household. He lived next door to his brother; his twin, explaining their close resemblance. Across in LA, the real Douglas Colby had also been arrested and questioned by the police and psychiatry; so far as they could tell, Douglas had never turned up the volume to the cell and never been influenced by Beyond.

L contacted the required people and arranged a stay at the local forensic psychiatric hospital, without fixed sentence but with all discharge plans to be run by him for approval before they could go ahead. Colby was sent to the hospital that night, clothed in a pair of L’s jeans and T-shirts since he was the closest fit.

It was already dark before the case was completed, the file marked as closed, but L was not satisfied.

“Beyond was right,” he told Light, unsettled. The younger man was filling the time L spent at his computers by baking the now favourite breakfast apple and chocolate turnovers ready for the next morning, wearing the pale pink apron that L always encouraged him to use. “We have to go back. We have to find out how he did it and if he affected anyone else if we want to prevent this from happening again.”

“He told you he wouldn’t talk unless I came with you,” Light scowled. “He knew you would have to go back.”

“Even if you come with me there is no guarantee that he will talk,” L sighed. “I do not want to leave this question unanswered, but when I said you would not go back there I did mean it.”

“You still don’t trust me, then?” Light sounded disappointed, an act no doubt. Why, with his rapidly changing manner, would L have incentive to trust Light so unconditionally?

“If we go back I expect Beyond will tell you my name,” L explained. “No one else knows that but Watari, and the damage you could do with that knowledge would not only be limited to the Notebook.”

“I don’t want you dead, L,” Light promised. L studied him; the very fact that Light spoke the words aloud made him doubt them. He may be falling for his own trap and be feeling things he had never felt before for Light-Kira, but that did not make him completely stupid. Light rarely let the truth pass his lips unless it was in the form of a gloat.

“Forty two percent,” L quoted a random number without allowing his calculations about whether that were true to reach their conclusion; in truth, he did not want to know how low the number could be.

“One hundred percent,” Light promised, flicking a small ball of pastry at L’s face in frustration. “What will I have to do to make you believe me?”

L studied him, considering whether there was anything he could think of. Eventually he concluded that there was not; there would always have to be doubt, where Kira was concerned. That didn’t stop him from wanting to believe it though.

“Let’s see how you feel once you’re bored,” he said instead of his conclusion, deciding to give up on the work (he had all the time in the world now the case was solved) and take a dip in the swimming pool.

* * *

 

By the time L finally got out of the pool, where Mello had joined him after a while, Light had strewn out all the case files across the living room floor; thirty-eight of them, every single one of the solved red cases. The sight gave L pause, a flutter of something like fear stilling him as he gawped at the mess.

“Light-Kira?” he asked softly, considering the young detective crouched amongst the files in a pose very similar to his own deductive perch. He had not predicted this; now that the case was over, was the younger man just going to kill all of the criminals from their other cases in one fell swoop? It would deal with the problem of them being constantly sat there, tempting him, but not in a way that L could accept, perhaps especially because so many deaths all in one go of major criminals would make it obvious that Kira was back in operation. Or perhaps because it was too blatant a violation of the new, unspoken agreement that L and Light had reached; one where Light could maintain his own limits so that L could allow him that control.

What would he do, if Light started writing all of the names in the Notebook?

Would he even try to stop him?

“L,” Light looked up at him. The smile that L could see was genuine, without a hint of Kira’s darkness. Perhaps, if L was flattering himself, that pleasant regard could be because he was clothed only in a pair of swimming trunks, his skinny pale body on show, but L was not the sort to flatter himself in that way and so the thought did not make sense. “Come look at this. I think there should be a way to prove the Peruvian case enough to pass muster in court – if we direct the police to…”

“What?” L was dumbfounded, a rare and unpleasant feeling. Water was dripping from his hair onto the carpet, some landing between his toes which squirmed at the cold.

“The Peruvian case…” Light repeated.

“No,” L frowned at him. “I heard you, it’s just…”

“I can’t just stay idle with all of these cases outstanding,” Light pointed out. “But there are too many to just kill without going through the courts. Like you said, it would be too obvious for Kira just to start killing like that again. Besides, it would damage your good name as L, and put our work together at risk. Also, if I’m going to be redeemed in the eyes of the public, we have to limit the Notebook to cases where there is absolutely no other option.”

“Light-Kira, I could kiss you,” L grinned at him, approaching and throwing his arms around the younger detective’s neck. He was not fooled; this was, even if only in part, another attempt to do something to make L trust him, perhaps an attempt to convince L it would be safe to take him to go see Beyond Birthday again, but no matter the reason L thought it deserved a reward.

“Or you could help me find a way to catch these criminals,” Light laughed, untangling L’s arms from around him and pushing him away gently. The damp detective had left a wet mark on Light’s pyjama top, an imprint of his chest. “Work, now, then I promise we can do something more fun later.”

L laughed at that, excusing himself to finish drying himself off before he did indeed sit down with the files to work with Light through into the early hours of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So starts a few lighter hearted chapters including a couple with the start of some actual smut between our two stubborn boys. Now, there will definitely be an update tomorrow either of this or The Other Half of Me, so keep eyes open - I'm on some rubbish weekend shifts and your comments / kudos keep me going :)


	17. Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L can seriously sulk, and is used to immediate results when he wants something (we can all thank Watari for spoiling the little twit).

By the time Light finally called it a day with the cases, which had been narrowed down to only ten remaining without plans for a solution to gather evidence that would hold up in court, it was nearly 6am; only an hour before they would usually wake for the day. L had been very keen to argue that Light had promised ‘fun later’ and that since there was only an hour before they were due to wake, their time could be spent in a better way than sleeping. Unfortunately, Light had only laughed at the suggestion, reminding L that since the case was solved they did not have to be awake at 7am (already very much later than L would have liked) and that they could sleep in that day. He would not be persuaded otherwise even when L had offered to give him a foot rub.

Therefore, L felt that his sulk was justified, and that refusing to eat Light’s delicious home baked apple and chocolate turnovers in favour of some shop bought strawberry cake should get his message across clearly. However, Light had not seemed at all bothered by the refusal of the baking he had worked so hard on the day before, and L only felt more hard done by because of it.

“Have you seen the post?” Mello interrupted L’s concentrated attempt to bore a hole in Light’s skull with his eyes, waving a letter in their direction. “Watari dropped it in while you two were _sleeping._ ”

The tone in which Mello said the last word was suggestive, and only made L more bitter. Light was a liar, but if he was trying to get L to trust him, he shouldn’t break his promises.

“There’s an invitation here,” Mello told them. “It’s addressed to L, but it says ‘to any of the team working with L’ in it, so it’s for all of us really. Disney and Universal have clubbed together to hold a last-minute fancy dress ball to celebrate the resolution of the case and the capture of the killer.”

“When?” Light asked curiously.

“It’s tonight,” Mello glanced at the card. “Starting at eight with a meal, last call at 3am.”

“Decline it,” L demanded, still trying to create his hole in Light’s head.

“L,” Light scolded firmly. “You wouldn’t have to go as you. L could decline, and you could go as Agent Ryuzaki. It’s fancy dress anyway, you could wear something so no one could see your face.”

“Still, decline,” L ordered.

“It would be good for Mello,” Light reminded him quietly, “and it’s a celebration of your win.”

“Decline,” L repeated, getting bored of this now. If they went to this party, from eight till three, Light would have a perfect excuse to break his promise again. It wasn’t fair; he was starting to feel like Light was trying to manipulate him with never fulfilled offers of sex like he had with Misa.

“We can decline on your behalf, but I’m going,” Mello told L, starting to write an email RSVP to the card.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Light rounded on L, getting fed up of the detective’s inexplicable bad mood this morning. “We’ve solved the case, and last night we cleared loads of the red files. I thought you’d be happy. Don’t tell me this is about Near or Beyond again?”

“You said later,” L huffed under his breath, finally stopping trying to bore a hole in Light’s skull, his eyes dropping to the wood of the table and his fork stabbing viciously into the strawberry.

“What?” Mello looked between them and then burst out laughing. “Wow… umm, do you two want a minute?”

“How about an hour?” L demanded fiercely. Light’s eyes widened comically.

“You can’t be serious?” Light laughed. “In all this time you’ve been playing with me, you’ve never once shown any sign that _you_ actually want this to go further. You never even get hard, L. Why is this suddenly on your mind now?”

L huffed. Whilst it was true that he had suppressed his reactions in the past, he had not wanted to leave himself vulnerable to Light-Kira manipulating him any further. Now, however, since he had accepted he would trust Light in this area of his life and since he had seen Light in the same vulnerable position, he had let go of those fears. He had fallen too far to care about them anymore; he would need to set up a protection for if Light decided that he was bored with being a detective and started to create the New World again, but there was no point holding back from this – from a sexual relationship with Light-Kira – if he was already too compromised to act against him anyway. Rather than explaining that, he just said, “You promised.”

Light couldn’t seem to stop laughing. L found it very rude that the thought of L having sex with Light-Kira made him laugh this much. He knew he was hardly an attractive man, and Light was physical perfection, but Light had certainly seemed interested enough before.

“I was joking,” Light began, but at seeing the way the detective’s hopeful face fell, he corrected himself, “Last night, I didn’t think you would really want to… you’ve always been so weird and nervous…”

“Is it not normal to be nervous?” L frowned. He may not have practical experience, but he read a lot about murder, and murder often had a sexual motivation, so he had read and watched a lot about sex too even before Light, and since then he had researched the practical aspects in more detail. Everything he had read had suggested it was perfectly normal for a virgin to be nervous before their first sexual encounter; it was fear of the unknown.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Light was blushing now; L was glad. If he had to feel uncomfortable in this conversation, it was only fair Light should too.

“I wasn’t nervous last time,” L reminded him. “Not once we’d started, anyway.”

Mello, who had not left the room despite his offer, was desperately trying not to laugh so much that some of his chocolate milk had been exhaled through his nose, splattering the white table cloth and making him cough and splutter.

“L,” Light finally sounded serious. “I didn’t mean to mess with you. I’m sorry.”

“I should have known you were joking,” L sighed, disappointed. Of course, Light didn’t actually want him; it was all a game, relieving his boredom, and perhaps with other motives… this was problematic. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and now to find out it was unrequited…

“L,” Light called his attention again. “Are you sure you would want this? I’m still Kira.”

“Yes,” L was absolutely certain, even if the emotions he felt were unrequited.

“Alright,” Light’s agreement was easy. L nodded, accepting and glad, but thinking it would be better if Light had agreed for his own sake rather than just because L wanted it. “You know, I wish you’d said something earlier. Do you know how many times I’ve gone to bed unsatisfied over the last three weeks?”

“Eleven,” L reminded him, recalling Light’s particular way of laying when he was uncomfortable due to physical arousal. Of course, Light was an eighteen-year-old male; that particular condition was not exactly uncommon. L was not sure he was happy with the idea of being used as a way to relieve tension, even though he had said he wanted it only a moment before.

“More than that, surely,” Light complained, reaching out to pull L into his lap, ignoring the presence of Mello, who finally decided that he would give them some privacy and left the room. L hadn’t expected it and moved clumsily, falling forward so that his weight was against Light’s chest before he could settle into his deductive perch so that he was not in contact with Light’s body at all. “Do you realise what you do to me?”

L glanced at Light’s eyes, looking for the lie and manipulation there. He was astonished when he could not only not find it, but could see something else instead.

“So that’s what honesty looks like,” L whispered, leaning in closer to study Light’s expression in more detail but the particular look was lost behind surprise. Disappointed, he leaned in and kissed Light, trying to quickly deepen the kiss and allowing his weight to settle over Light’s hips.

“Well we can’t go just do it now,” Light complained, pushing L out of his lap. “It’ll never work with this amount of pressure and knowing Mello is out here knowing exactly what we’re doing.”

L resisted complaining, realising that if he pleaded for sex he would just sound obsessed like Misa, the little that he had seen of her before he had imprisoned the girl. “When?”

“Well, if we go the party,” Light began. L pulled a face, preparing to sulk again. “If we go to the party, and you still have enough energy when we get home, I’m sure we could see how we feel afterwards?”

This time L had no compunctions about huffing.

“Relax, L,” Light laughed at his disappointed expression. “We shouldn’t force this…”

“We could try,” L suggested half-heartedly, but he didn’t expect a reply and so he discarded the remaining half of his strawberry cake in exchange for one of Light’s chocolate and apple turn overs.

“We need to go shopping first anyway,” Light advised. “There are some things we need to get before we can do this.”

“Hmmm,” L realised that Light was right; though he had actually considered on several occasions when it had looked like their physical relationship might progress that there might be things they would need, he had never plucked up the courage to ask poor old Watari to purchase them for him. The list he had created had started with only necessities but had expanded to such degree that he could not bring himself to hand it over to his handler. “Then we should go shopping right away. Once I’ve finished breakfast, of course.”

“And the party?” Light asked, eyes wide and pleading. L sighed.

“Well, if you really want to go, we can,” L agreed. “In costume, with our FBI identification, not as ourselves.”

“Thank you,” Light beamed.

 

* * *

 

“Who is your favourite character?” L asked Light as they were in the car on the way back from their shopping trip, in search of a character outfit and supplies for the night. L, it seemed, had big ambitious plans; he had started the journey to the shops by flicking through catalogues and dog earing more pages than he left unmarked, whilst Light couldn’t stop blushing at some of the items L suggested. Eventually he had to confiscate the catalogues from L as he made his way through the third one.

“I’m not sure,” Light considered. “Mello will be going as Mulan, of course.”

“Of course,” L agreed. “I might stick with the Loki costume.”

“Hmm,” Light grinned. “Yes, you looked good in that.”

“So, your favourite character?” L pressed.

“Well,” Light considered all of the films Mello had watched in the background over the last few weeks. “I did like the Lion King, but I think that would be very difficult to do well. Maybe for the costume, the Mad Hatter would be better?”

“You just want an excuse to continue to wear a suit, even a strange looking one,” L scolded, laughing.

“Is that a problem?” Light asked rhetorically. “I’d rather not look completely ridiculous, even at a costume party.”

“Always so dignified,” L smiled fondly. “The Mad Hatter it is then.”

It was only later, as Light knelt at L’s feet as he helped him into the skin-tight Loki costume, that he paused, taking a glance at the time. Smiling, he peeled away the outfit, discarding it to one side.

“Light-Kira, what are you doing?” L asked, curious rather than concerned.

“Apologising,” Light ran his finger along the elastic edge of L’s Marvel-patterned boxers. “for last night. We have a bit of time…”

“I haven’t done _this_ before either,” L warned him, shifting himself backwards further onto the bed and away from Light, who looked up at him, concerned. “I’ve read that it doesn’t last all that long at first.”

“Perhaps,” Light allowed, relieved that was L’s only concern. “But that’s fine; it’s new, and we don’t have enough time to really drag this out anyway.”

L nodded, lifting his hips to allow Light to remove the boxers.

Light paused once they were gone, focused on L’s obvious arousal. It was the first time he had seen L aroused by him, and there was something extremely flattering and extremely powerful in being able to create such a response in the usually so detached detective. L, his breathing heavy, seemed to become harder as he looked.

In this area, Light didn’t know what he had expected of the detective. He hadn’t, even when he allowed himself to daydream, really had much thought about the size and shape of L’s cock. Perhaps that was because he had never been with a man before, and such a thing hadn’t really mattered to him anyway. Now that he saw it, however, Light considered his relief that in this of all areas it seemed that L was fairly average; perhaps a little thicker than the average L’s books would have described, but at around six inches. It was a good size, but not intimidating, and certainly not impossible to perform what Light had planned, even without prior experience.

As L was already hard, Light didn’t have to worry must about preparing him, but he was wary of frightening the detective by moving too quickly, no matter how keen he seemed to be just now.

“If I do something you don’t like, tell me to stop,” Light reminded L before leaving a trail of kisses upwards from L’s foot – such a sensitive spot for the detective, definitely a spot Light would take advantage of later. He briefly wondered whether there might be a way to get L to come just from touching his feet; perhaps sucking on his toes while he massaged… he dismissed the thought but stored it away for another time, since it seemed such a convincing way to show L that he would debase himself if he had to in order to pursue this relationship. He paused when he reached L’s cock, taking it first in his hand. The detective was staring at him, unblinking, his lips parted as he drew in shallow breaths.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” Light warned, giving L a few rough strokes before he finally moved his head down to L’s cock.

“Light-Kira,” L gasped as Light licked from the base to the head, certain that taking him into his mouth would be too much too soon. Light glanced up, also storing the insistence on using the honorific away for later; he wondered at what point L would just scream out ‘Light’. He licked over the head of L’s cock, trying not to become aroused himself at the thought of what it would take to have L just scream ‘Kira’.

“Please…” L had no compunction, it seemed, about catching Light’s hair and using it to guide him. Light wanted to be affronted but instead found it rather endearing, so he succumbed and finally took L’s cock between his lips, careful to keep his teeth away from the soft, sensitive skin.

He hadn’t done this before, but he had enough idea of what he was meant to be doing; still, at first he couldn’t manage to take much more than the head in, so he used his tongue to increase the stimulation whilst he got used to the stretch of his lips and the unfamiliar but not unpleasant taste of the fluid L’s cock was already leaking into his mouth; far sweeter, he thought absently, than it was probably meant to be. It seemed L’s mostly sugar diet had some benefits for Light after all.

“Light-Kira,” L gasped, tugging at his hair demandingly. “More.”

Light didn’t draw away as he chuckled, glancing up to see how undone L already appeared.

If they had more time, he thought, he would draw this out. He would see how far he could push L without bringing him to orgasm, then stop and make him wait for being so demanding. However, they didn’t have that time; they had to be cleaned up and ready for the party soon, so instead he decided to challenge himself to make L come as quickly as possible.

He began to move, focusing on hollowing out his cheeks and allowing his throat to relax and take L as deeply as possible inside without choking. L groaned, finally taking his eyes off of Light to allow his upper body to fall backwards onto the bed, one hand grasping Light’s hair but not forcing him close enough to suffocate, the other grasping at the bed sheets. The detective’s legs bent upwards, his feet wrapping around Light’s back, holding him close.

Light hummed around L’s cock when it was deep enough in his throat that he thought it might make a difference; L’s hips jolted upwards, momentarily choking him, but Light was sure it was worth it for the pathetic mewling noise that escaped the world’s greatest detective.

“Do that again,” L demanded, “I promise I’ll stay still this time.”

Light drew back so that only the head of L’s cock was between his lips, taking the opportunity to recover his breath and relax his tightened throat again, deciding to fix L’s hips in place with his hands to prevent any further involuntary movement as he swallowed him down again, getting him even deeper this time, so that his nose was brushing L’s dark curls. He hummed again, and though L’s hips tried to jolt upwards from the bed, with his hands to fix them in place he was able to repeat this twice before he had to draw back to take another breath.

“Oh,” L breathed, his toes curling in Light’s back. It seemed he was lost for words; Light would have grinned if his mouth were free to do so, but instead he swallowed L down once more. “Don’t… I think I’m going to…”

Light hummed, determined, and L gasped, a salty-sweet liquid flooding Light’s mouth. He swallowed down what he could; L had done the same for him after all, and the detective was a strong believer in an eye for an eye.

“We’re definitely doing that again,” Light demanded as he finally released L’s softening cock from between his lips.

“Hmm,” L didn’t seem capable of speech at that moment. Light grinned down at him, glad L’s eyes were not open; he was sure his grin was more sinister than he intended it to be. He couldn’t help it, seeing the detective lost for words, vulnerable and helpless and needy was too much for him to be completely without thoughts that would probably frighten the detective if he knew what they were.

Thoughts of L kneeling at his feet, begging him to be allowed to serve him. Thoughts of the detective bound to the bed, Light doing with him as he pleased. Thoughts of that clever mouth, gagged, or kept silent by his own cock as it was put to better use than his endless deductions.

Frightened himself a little by the direction his thoughts were taking, Light went through to the bathroom, gathering up a washcloth and some warm water in a bowl, taking them back through to the bedroom to clean L up. The detective’s eyes were open now, though he continued to lounge back comfortably.

“You’re very good at that,” L complimented, boneless and seemingly unable to move as Light began to clean him up as best he could with the wash cloth.

“I should only get better with practice,” Light smirked, still glad that L wasn’t looking at his face, since his thoughts had not returned to a more vanilla track. He was fairly sure his eyes were blood red by now as he was unable to put out of his mind ideas for how he could dominate the detective.

“Light-Kira?” L asked when the silence dragged on, finally sitting up in the bed. Light tried to look down quickly but it was too late; L had seen his eyes, and from the look L was giving them they were indeed red. “What are you thinking?”

Light hesitated; he couldn’t be honest, couldn’t tell L of all the dirty and terrible things that had been running through his mind.

“Light-Kira?” L prompted when he remained silent. What could Light say that L would believe as an excuse? “Please, don’t lie to me. Not here, not about this.”

Light frowned, looking up at L. He wrung out the washcloth over the bowl, discarding it beside and resting his hands on L’s knees before they could bend up into his deductive crouch.

“Things you don’t have to worry about,” Light finally admitted, as close to a confession as he was willing to come. L studied his guilty look, unblinking.

“Light-Kira,” he began, and Light worried what he was going to say next, “should be willing to talk about what excites him, if this is going to work.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Light flushed, worried about what L would deduce from his continued silence on the matter but still considering it better than admitting to his thoughts. “L, we’re running out of time, we need to get dressed.”

Light got to his feet, taking the bowl back to the bathroom. When he returned, L was already well over half dressed, just needing the zip at the back of the one-piece outfit to be fastened by Light, who wordlessly moved to do so.

“What name would Light-Kira prefer me to use in bed?” L asked. Light tensed, flinching away from L’s perceptive deduction.

“Whatever you like,” he allowed, biting back the temptation to make the demand he would like.

“Then it won’t bother you,” L paused, turning in Light’s arms so he could see his reaction. “If I call you Kira, here?”

Light took in a sharp intake of breath – there was no point trying to hide his reaction from L, since he would pick up on more subtle signs anyway. L’s lips spread into a smile.

A fist pounded on the door. “Five minutes you two, whatever you’re doing stop it and get dressed!”

“Mello,” Light and L spoke in unison, stepping apart from one another. Light checked his outfit; perfectly clean, not a crease to be seen. He collected the hat from the end of the bed, checking how the ensemble looked in the mirror. L shrugged on the remaining plastic armour pieces that went with the outfit and Light helped him attach a golden cape to his shoulders. He paused, kissing L’s neck and whispering in his ear.

“You can call me Kira, if you like.”


	18. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disney & Universal team up to celebrate the end of the DD murder case; the team attend, disguised, and have a bit of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pause. This chapter's a bit of a bonus, so I'm updating out of sequence. There was an update yesterday, so if you haven't read that, it would be worth going back to there.
> 
> So this chapter’s pretty much pure crack & fluff that I really wanted to put in for these characters since I have a rare chance to let Mello just be a kid for a change. It doesn’t include anything important for plot, it’s a bit of fun written after too much whisky, so if that’s not your thing feel free to skip. I considered making it a one shot-aside from the main plot, since the events of this chapter will basically be almost completely ignored forever more in the story, but decided to keep it in with this warning. If anything it's just intended to make you smile. Don't take it too seriously.
> 
> Back into the main plot on the next update.

Despite the party being arranged only one day before, the ballroom was lavishly decorated with Disney and Universal themed features. The crowd were colourful and the atmosphere excited; celebrating.

“You’re the most handsome person here,” L assessed clinically as he took in the room. Light, dressed in a blue pinstripe shirt and trousers, with a bright pink tailcoat and the classic Mad Hatter hat, somehow managed to look sophisticated despite the colour choice. Around the room were a wide range from full princess ball gowns and Disney’s own character outfits, to shop bought, last minute skimpy affairs.

“No,” Light insisted, admiring L in the Loki outfit, “you would be if you took that mask off.”

“And I’m the most beautiful,” Mello declared. As expected, he had dressed as his favourite character, Mulan – but not the warrior. He was in the full matchmaker outfit; the pink dress, the white face paint, the flowers in the braid. He was, as usual, rather convincingly feminine in the outfit. “Ryuk, come on, let’s find our table.”

The boy bounded away through the crowd, leaving L and Light to receive the crowd of people who were waiting to thank them for their efforts in solving the case. By the time Light was done insisting that they be polite and not just shove through the crowd, L was craving at least half a pound of sugar; Light picked up on this and ordered him a toffee vodka cocktail as soon as they sat down.

“You’re not to get drunk,” Light leaned in to whisper the second part into L’s ear, “or you won’t be sober enough for what I have planned later.”

L didn’t answer, but sipped at his drink rather than gulping down the sweet concoction as he had intended.

Food was served shortly after, the main reason why the crowd had dispersed in the first place to allow them to get to their seats. Light spoke to the wait staff, ensuring that L’s food was prepared the way he liked; everything that could be sweetened in any possible way was sweetened.

Beneath the constant chatter from around the hall as guests settled into their seats and ate their meals, delivered to their tables by costumed characters, a band was softly playing music from Disney and Universal movies; acoustic versions that were unobtrusive, though Mello’s humming along and Ryuk’s obnoxiously loud singing really rather spoiled the atmosphere.

“Do you play any instruments, L?” Light asked the detective over their desserts. He prodded at the mickey mouse cupcake; chocolate, with chocolate frosting and miniature Oreos for ears, but deliberately did not touch the crème brulee topped with circles of coloured sugar to make it look like a Captain America shield, instead offering that across to L, who took it and began to eat with some gusto.

“Well,” L spoke around a mouthful of the dessert. “I’m sure I could manage a drum, but I’ve never been musically inclined. What about you, Mello?”

L didn’t ask what Light could play; he had seen his school records when he had been researching for the Kira case, and was well aware that Light had achieved the highest possible school level qualification for a number of instruments, including the piano, violin and flute at a minimum - all of which he had mastered around the same time, between second and fourth years of high school; around the same time he had played tennis. It had been a period of time when the competitive perfectionist had been trying to find something that would challenge him.

“Guitar, saxophone, drums,” Mello listed, grinning. “And of course, my spectacular singing voice.”

From his off-key attempts in the house, Light seriously doubted that Mello’s singing could be considered spectacular in any sense other than spectacularly bad.

“Hey, Light,” Mello jumped out of his chair, tugging on Light’s arm. “We should perform something!”

“What?” Light yelped as he was physically dragged off his chair by Mello with the assistance of Ryuk to push him along.

“Yeah, that’ll be fun!” Ryuk encouraged. L chuckled but only waved them on their way, letting them steal Light to the stage for fear of getting dragged into this as well.

“Hey, give me that!” Mello demanded of the singer who had just been setting up to perform, since the meals were now being cleared away. The singer, rather startled but recognising Mello in his Mulan costume to be one of the FBI agents that were the guests of honour, handed over the microphone. “Hey, everyone, this party’s dull so we’re gonna have a sing along, join in if you want!”

Light groaned, but allowed Ryuk to drag him to the piano where the player gave up his chair. He couldn’t exactly resist the Shinigami without making a very obvious and surreal scene live on stage.

“How about we start with something from my favourite film? Chan, do you know the music?”

“No,” Light complained, but found the sheet music on the piano amongst the rest; he took the first one that had had the header ‘Mulan’. “Reflection?”

“Okay folks, we’ll be breaking you in gently. Chan, give me a couple of bars introduction?”

Light glanced over the music, memorising it swiftly, and began to play; hoping beyond hope that Mello’s singing would somehow be magically better than it was back at the house. The other musicians joined in once they had the tempo.

Mello started softly, but to Light’s surprise, his singing wasn’t half bad, even as he reached for the higher notes in the song. It was a sad, reflective piece, but even then, he had to admit, Mello nailed it. Even the assembled guests seemed to agree, given the round of applause they got.

“Rue, come up, the next one’s a duet!” Mello called, glancing round at Light. “Find the music for ‘I just can’t wait to be king’, we have to do that one!”

“This isn’t the house band,” L complained to Mello as he was almost lifted out of his chair by Ryuk, managing to get his legs under him in time to make it look like he had just stood up awkwardly. Ryuk was, of course, laughing and delighted with the amusement his friend was creating for him. Light left the music sheets aside; he actually knew this one, though not on piano; he switched across to the drum set with a sigh. He knew by now that Mello would get his own way once he set his mind to something; there was no point arguing.

“Everyone, Rue might need a round of applause to get him up here!” Mello began to clap his hands in rhythm, stomping his feet too once enough of the guests joined in. L looked like he wanted to put his hands in his pockets, but he didn’t have any, so he settled for slouching up to the stage, reluctantly taking the lyrics from Mello, skimming them swiftly and setting them down.

“You’re going to be Simba, aren’t you?” he asked, looking resigned.

“Absolutely.”

“And I assume you want to adapt the lyrics? You can’t, remember, no real names.”

“Of course. Disney names only.”

“Mello,” L scowled at him. “You’re lucky you’re only a kid.”

“Why?”

“Because if Light pulled something like this, I’d kick him in the face,” L spoke casually, finally accepting his fate and turning to the audience, accepting a microphone. The crowd, expecting something really quite amusing at this point, were clapping in rhythm; some were banging on their tables with enthusiasm. L realised Light was drumming along to encourage them, a smirk on his face as he waited to see what L would do.

Light began the lead in, nodding to the other musicians and the music started to build.

“I'm gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware,” Mello sang, his voice perfectly childlike for the lion cub, dancing around the stage. Ryuk went with him, limbs flailing more than dancing. At least the crowd couldn’t see him, but Light had to bite his lip to stop him from laughing.

“Well, I've never seen a king of beasts with quite such greasy hair!” L spoke, rather than sang; the effect was perfect for his role as the scolding Red-billed Hornbill anyway.

“I'm gonna be the main event, like no king was before. I'm brushing up on looking down,” Mello hopped onto the top of the piano, looking down at L, who folded his arms across his chest and glared, but it was in a fond, long-suffering kind of way. “I'm working on my roar.”

The roar that Mello let out was actually realistic as a lion’s roar, making one or two of the musicians jump so much that they ended up out of time; for a moment only Light was carrying the tune, and the crowd burst out laughing.

“Thus far, a rather uninspiring thing,” L lifted the microphone to his lips and spoke the line in his usual emotionless tone; the effect had some of the crowd laughing so much they seemed unable to stop. Mello shook his Mulan wig out, trying to make it stick up like a mane; Ryuk snatched one from the costume cupboard backstage, dropping it behind the piano where no one spotted its mysterious arrival. He used L’s line as an opportunity to hop down, put on the lion’s mane wig and hop back up onto the piano. Several of the crowd cheered and clapped.

“Oh, I just can't wait to be king!”

“You've rather a long way to go, young master, if you think-”

“No one saying, "do this"

“Now when I said that, I” -” L advanced on the piano; Mello hopped down, rushing to the opposite corner of the stage and ducking down behind Light’s drum kit.

“No one saying, "be there"”

“What I meant was…” Mello scurried across to the opposite side of the stage again, grabbing the stage curtain and using it to climb a few feet, hanging off it over L’s head as he sang.

“No one saying, "stop that"

“Look, what you don't realize,” L was scowling convincingly at Mello; Light wondered how it would have been at Wammy’s house, if L had been there rather than out solving cases, if he had been involved in raising Mello and Near. He could just imagine him scolding the boys very much like this.

“No one saying, "see here"

“Now see here!” L shouted, quite genuinely, as Mello climbed rapidly up the curtain and as high as the ceiling; fifteen feet up in the air. The crowd cheered, whilst a few nervous health and safety staff at the back of the hall mobilised out of their chairs to insist that he come down, FBI agent or not.

“Free to run around all day,”

“Well, that's definitely out.” L huffed.

“Free to do it all my way!”

“The world is doomed!” L added, stomping to the other side of the stage and perching on the floor in front of Light’s drum kit, the presence of an audience forcing him to sit more normally, with his legs folded underneath him rather than perched. As an aside to Light without the microphone, he added, “I think I make a mistake when I chose Mello as my successor.”

“I think it's time that you and I arranged a heart to heart,” Light quickly activated the microphone on the drum kit before L could continue; even though he was playing the drums, he was feeling rather left out.

“Kings don't need advice from little horn-bills for a start!” Mello crooned back down at him; he had now decided to make his way across a rope behind the curtain using only his arms. It looked difficult to hold his weight with one arm every time he sang, until you considered that the Shinigami was hovering just beneath Mello’s feet so the boy’s weight wasn’t held by his arms at all but was standing on Ryuk’s shoulders.

“If this is where the monarchy is headed count me out, out of service, out of Africa, I wouldn't hang about!” Light sang.

“This child is getting wildly out of wing!” L declared, in his normal voice as before.

“Oh, I just can't wait to be king!”

Light, deciding that he had had enough, used the musical interlude to create an artificial conclusion to the song, one or two of the musicians quick and clever enough to follow what he was doing and play along, the others who only knew the music by rote stopping as he went off script. Mello made a show of dropping from the ceiling (albeit supported by a Shinigami to reduce the impact) and landing with a forward roll, hopping up and holding up both arms before bowing to the audience, some of whom jumped to their feet, clapping and cheering.

“You were the one who wanted to give him chance to be a kid,” L complained to Light after they had convinced Mello to give up the stage – at least for now – and return to their table.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Light pulled L in close, kissing his forehead over the mask. “How about I get you something strawberry flavoured to make things better?”

“And alcohol,” L demanded.

“What about later?” Light frowned. He would not have sex with L if he was drunk; though, he had to admit, he really wanted to know what a drunk L would look like. It couldn’t be so much stranger than an everyday L.

“I’m not sure I’ll survive until later without some alcohol,” L glanced to where Mello was dancing around the ballroom floor, seemingly without a partner to anyone who looked; actually, he was waltzing with Ryuk to a very enthusiastic rendition of ‘Under the Sea’.

“At least you’ve got a mask for your face, and Mello’s all redesigned with the silicon,” Light poked L’s mask. “I’d bet any amount of money that video’s going to be online by tonight, and it’s bound to go viral; FBI agents who caught serial killer perform Disney songs? I’d recon at least a few people from home will see it and work out that’s me on the tape.”

“I’ll make sure the footage is doctored,” L promised, swiftly sending a message to Watari to get this set up before anyone could upload anything. “We could just scramble all nearby devices?”

“That would be mean,” Light pointed out. “And possibly a bit illegal.”

“What’s that about illegal, Kira?” L asked wryly; the mask didn’t hide his mouth, so Light could see his expressions from that; he was smirking.

The music changed; to ‘Part of your world’ from Ariel; another of Mello’s favourites, and it seemed no longer having the microphone, he still would not be stopped from singing, quite dramatically upstaging the performing singer, so much so that a shout went up from the party guests for Mello to perform again, with or without the other members of the team. Mello jumped at the chance, snatching the microphone and springing into an enthusiastic rendition of ‘Be Our Guest’ from Beauty and the Beast.

“Definitely alcohol,” L confirmed to Light, shoving him bodily in the direction of the bar.

Three Strawberry Daiquiri later and L was far more relaxed, but also far cuddlier; he had curled himself up in Light’s lap, his arms around his neck and his face crushed into the hollow beneath his chin.

“Are you falling asleep?” Light asked as L began to make little snuffly noises.

“No,” L whined. “Comfy.”

Well, that answered his question about the effect alcohol would have on his favourite detective. Light smiled, stroking L’s hair (having removed the Loki helmet, since the horns on it had been poking him whenever L moved his head) and holding him close in return, watching Mello performing ‘A Whole New World’ from Aladdin; at least the boy had agreed to have a harness attached before Ryuk had started sweeping him through the air over the stage, supporting a magic carpet; the harness made it look believable that the ropes were doing the movement, especially since Watari had taken the position at the controls.

“L?” Light gently encouraged the detective to remove himself from where he was drooling a little onto his chest. “I need you to get off me now.”

“Why?” L complained. They had been curled up like that for hours; it was nearly two in the morning, and there was less than an hour of the party to go.

“Because I want to play something for you, and I can’t do that with you sat on me,” Light explained, encouraging L back into his own chair. L woke up a bit at the offer, studying him groggily.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” Light flushed. “I… yeah.”

“Oh,” L beamed.

“Okay, so…” Light felt awkward; it seemed a nice thought when he suggested it, but now it just sounded embarrassingly soppy; still, he’d promised now.

He made his way up to the stage, relieving Mello of his microphone and setting it aside. He spoke quietly with the band for a moment and once they dispersed to have a very quick drink break, he took his seat at the piano.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovely music,” Light spoke into the microphone attached to the piano. “This event tonight, the capture of this criminal, and my job wouldn’t be possible without one man; L. I would like to dedicate this little tune to him; you probably won’t recognise it.”

Of course they wouldn’t, since Light had just composed it now whilst cuddled with L. It had been a long time since he had thought to compose anything, many years since he had bothered; piano, like all of his other temporary hobbies, had never been much of a challenge for him.

Softly at first, testing the tune, he began to play; G-E-A-E-F^-G-E-B-A-G-F^-E-D. The swift notes sounded exactly as he hoped, as he thought they would, but he played them through a couple more times first before he began to build on them, not taking his eyes off the piano to see L’s reaction even as the crowd hushed, listening intently.

The tune built, broke, and reformed again – several times, before he finally allowed it to come to a conclusion. He didn’t dare look round at L, didn’t want to be disappointed by his reaction, but the crowd gave him a round of applause at least. The band came back onto the stage, the party guests shouting for Light to perform a song before he got down from the stage. Taking the chance to avoid seeing L’s disappointment for a moment more, he complied.

He had been too soppy, pathetic playing that silly song for L. He needed to pull back a bit of dignity; he pulled out a villain song from the pile, the limited Disney darkness necessary after he’d been so soft; if he said so himself, he thought he made a rather threatening Scar, singing Be Prepared from a perch on top of the piano, the usual performers singing the parts of the hyena.

“Light-Kira,” L purred as Light finally returned to the table. “Insulting the public might not be the best way to get them on your side.”

Light chuckled, wondering momentarily if ever the world found out he was Kira, there would be memes of him singing this song; there were so many lines in it that he could picture; “I know that your powers of retention are as wet as a warthog’s backside” was particularly perfect, as was “a shining new era is tiptoeing nearer”, and he was sure the world would make something of “just listen to teacher” too.

“Scramble the videos,” Light requested of L, who did send a further message to Watari, though he also added several requests for cake and other sweet treats, and clambered back into Light’s lap, cuddling in tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t own songs or lyrics of course.  
> Who recognises the tune Light plays? The intro notes are the clue…  
> Didn’t get it? Ah well, it’s L’s theme from death note. Particularly, credit goes to Death Note - L's Theme | Piano Version – Lucas King; which is one of my favourite piano solo adaptations of this tune.  
> Also Light's outfit, as per Alice in Wonderland Ballet  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/138787306@N04/26046300267/in/dateposted-public/)


	19. Command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L and Light are still wary / overly cautious around one another in their relationship, but they're finally getting somewhere.

“You got drunk,” Light told L the next morning. “On not very much alcohol at all, and you fell asleep.”

“Not drunk,” L argued. “Tipsy. And comfortable.”

“Well, still,” Light argued. “You can’t complain that we didn’t have sex when you were asleep, surely?”

“I’m not sulking about that,” L argued, prodding at his breakfast, moving it around his plate rather than eating it.

“Then what is it?”

“You got dressed without waking me up,” L complained.

“You’re always up before me,” Light rolled his eyes, pouring a little more coffee into L’s syrup concoction; L added two more sugar cubes to counterbalance it. “You really needed that sleep.”

“Then you could have waited till I was awake,” L grumbled.

Light smiled a little; since the subject had been raised properly, and L had learned that they both definitely wanted to progress their relationship in that direction, he had not been able to give it a rest. Light wanted to give in, he really did, but there was a part of him that was enjoying making L wait all the more. The detective was used to just getting whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it; he was spoiled by Watari and he would admit he also indulged him most of the time. For example, he had used the time when he woke early to bake baklava for their breakfast.

“Kira.”

L’s tone sent an involuntary shiver down Light’s spine, making him choke on his coffee. He purred the title; usually used by L as honorific rather than name, spoken now with such desire, pleading. Light stared at the detective, then slowly set down his coffee.

“Mello and Ryuk have gone out for the day,” he confessed to L. “I got them a ticket for all the parks.”

“You mean we have the whole house to ourselves?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Light studied the detective, who suddenly looked contemplative.

“Can we take advantage of that?”

“That was the plan,” Light admitted, smiling at L.

“First things first,” L hopped up from his chair, holding out his hand to Light. The mischief on the detective’s face told him that whatever he had planned was probably no longer sexual in nature. He was dragged bodily through to Mello’s room, L’s long thin fingers quickly disarming the explosives protecting the room against entry.

“What are we doing?” Light asked as L rushed in to the room.

“Remember that time Mello attached all out furniture to the ceiling?”

“That would take ages,” Light complained as L began to pull items out of the drawers, swiftly sorting electronics and weaponry into a separate pile; also, a pile of any papers and items that would be damaged recognisably by getting them wet started to form in the opposite corner of the room.

“We don’t have a Shinigami to help,” L agreed. “But we can do this.”

With that, L gathered up an armful of Mello’s outfits, carried them outside, and dumped them into the swimming pool. Light, getting the idea and knowing he would get at least some of the blame anyway even if he didn’t join in, decided to help to speed the process along.

Half an hour later, every item Mello owned that would not be permanently damaged by getting it wet was in the swimming pool, floating around. This included an astonishing number of luminescent pink thongs.

“Kira,” L turned to Light, the needy tone returning. “Could we go to bed now?”

Light laughed, but led the way through to the bedroom. L’s eagerness was contagious, but the entire thing made him tense again; the situation seemed so contrived, when they started this way.

L removed his shirt, dropping it to the floor. Light frowned at it.

“Can’t you just fold it up?” he asked, frustrated. He recalled what L had said about that not being how these things were done, but he didn’t much care; he disliked the mess, when it would only take seconds to fold up the shirt or put it in the wash basket, and it wasn’t yet interrupting anything.

L picked up the t shirt from the floor, looking ready to do so, but then his eyes lifted to Light’s, a question in them. He hesitated to ask it, though.

“L?” Light prompted, and the words seemed to spill from L.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“What do you mean?” Light frowned. He thought he had been perfectly clear.

“Command me.”

Oh. Oh!

Light’s eyes widened as he considered the request, which awoke those dark thoughts once more; L, on his knees before him, worshipping at his feet, begging to be allowed…

“Fold up the shirt,” he commanded, his breath coming a little more shallowly. L complied without argument, keeping his eyes down and remaining very still when he was done; waiting for the next instruction. “Put it down and come here.”

L did as instructed, but when he reached Light he did not remain standing; Light startled as L lowered down onto his knees, legs spread, hands behind his back. Light wondered what videos L had been watching for his research, that he knew what to do so readily.

“You don’t have to do that,” Light burst out, suddenly concerned. What if L had only been watching this sort of video, and thought this was the only way things should be done? It seemed unlikely; L was thorough, after all, but…

“Kira,” L looked up, fixing him with his gaze. “If you do not want me like this you need only say and I will stop. However, I believe there is a 93% chance that Kira would enjoy seeing me this way.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to do it just to make me happy,” Light told him firmly. Was this seriously another test? “This is your first time, as well as mine. We shouldn’t be doing anything that would make either of us uncomfortable; that we won’t both enjoy…”

“ _Kira,”_ L insisted on using his name again, each time sending a shiver through Light. “There is a 99.7% chance that I enjoy this, too.”

Light stared, astonished.

“But, you hate to lose,” he argued nonsensically.

“I’ve never met anyone worthy of defeating me before,” L told him. “You, Light-Kira, you are the first person I have ever met who I truly consider to be my equal. Call it arrogance or narcissism all you like. But, it feels good to have someone I can let go with for once.”

“Oh.”

Light was dumbfounded; L was putting a lot of trust in him, if he was willing to go through with this. L considered him for a moment more before dropping his eyes back to the ground at Light’s feet, straightening his spine and perfecting the submissive pose.

Did Light want this? The dark part of him, the part that was Kira, delighted in the sight of L at his feet. The rest of him…

Was completely on board with the idea, too, it seemed.

“Stand,” he commanded. L swiftly obeyed. “We will need to set ground rules, but that is for another time. This time we will keep things simple, and if you want me to stop, you need only tell me.”

“I have considered a safe word, Kira,” L told him quietly.

“Which is?”

“Broccoli.”

Light laughed. Typical L.

“Then broccoli it is,” he agreed. “Remove your jeans, too, and whatever you have under them. I want to see you.”

L again did as instructed without hesitation or argument, folding the jeans without prompting and setting them on top of his folded shirt. It seemed he had gone without undergarment that day. Light had never seen him do so before; he must have been hopeful he would be able to convince Light to go back to bed at some point then.

“On the bed,” Light commanded. “you can speak if you have any suggestions or requests.”

“I want you inside me,” L spoke bluntly as he perched on the edge of the bed. Light waited for him to lay back, but he didn’t seem to be moving. It would seem he would need to be more specific.

“Lay down on your back,” he described. He reached into the collection that L had bought during their shopping trip the day before, taking note of the ropes and other equipment that he would use on another day but keeping things simple, collecting a bottle of lubrication and some of the smaller anal toys.

“Since this is our first time like this,” Light told L, moving onto the bed, still fully clothed. “I do not expect you to try to hold back. Come when you are ready.”

L nodded without speaking; he did not have a suggestion or a request at that moment, beyond the obvious, and Kira had not given him permission to speak in any other circumstance.

L was already hard, and considering that Light had told him not to hold back, Light did not want to provide him with any additional stimulation to his cock until it was necessary, especially if he was going to fulfil L’s one and only request since they had started this. Light spread some of the lubrication over the narrowest of the toys, guiding it gently into L. The sudden intrusion made him tense for a moment, but it was not unexpected, just cold and a little strange, and he quickly relaxed enough to allow Light to proceed.

“You’re doing so well,” Light praised, kissing L’s chest, hands stroking close to where they were most needed, but not touching. “Are you ready for the next one?”

“I would prefer your fingers,” L requested. “Kira.”

Light hesitated. What was the point of their embarrassing shopping trip if they weren’t even going to use what they had bought?

“If I refuse,” Light asked L, studying him, “Is this still okay?”

“Yes,” L nodded immediately, a small grin reassuring Light. “You have control of this – of me. You just said I could make requests, not demands.”

Light, reassured, carefully removed the smallest of the toys from L, replacing it with one slightly larger; L groaned at the sensation.

“Tell me, as soon as you are ready,” Light commanded, returning to his worshiping of L’s chest with his lips and tongue.

It wasn’t long at all before L was seeking friction as Light determinedly avoided any touch to his cock. When it became clear Light wasn’t going to let him get his pleasure that way, L gasped that he was ready for the next of the toys.

Light was even more careful with this one; taking a few steps up in size, trying something that was only a little narrower than his cock; he was getting impatient. L was tight, not allowing the intrusion at first although from the noises he was making he was trying not to resist it.

To distract him, Light swiftly and without warning engulfed the head of L’s cock between his lips.

“Argh!” the detective gasped, thrusting up in to Light’s mouth, momentarily choking him. Light fought not to gag, pushing forward with the toy and seating it deeply within his distracted detective.

“There you go,” he praised, soothing L with little licks to his cock. L’s hands, for lack of something to hold on to, had made their way to the headboard, grasping the bars desperately, trying to anchor himself.

Light fought to be patient, drawing away to take in the sight of the dishevelled detective.

“Keep hold of those bars,” he commanded as he removed his clothing; just because he could he folded each item neatly, adding them to the pile of L’s clothes. He needed the space to sooth his own ardour if he wanted to actually fuck L. The sight of the detective submitting had him hard and dripping already, far too quickly for his pride to allow, though it didn’t seem that the detective was in a much better state.

“Please, Kira,” L pleaded from the bed, not letting go of the headboard as Light had commanded.

“Be patient,” Light, now naked, observed L’s hungry focus on his own cock, which was a fair bit larger than L’s – in girth and length – and standing proud. Ignoring it though it was beginning to ache, Light knelt at the end of the bed, pulling L’s feet into his lap, massaging them. L groaned, relaxing boneless into the bed, precum dripping from the head of his cock.

“Please,” he pleaded again, and Light gave up his patience; he moved over the detective, removing the toy as he kissed L firmly, distracting him as he carefully aligned himself and slid inside.

L was relaxed, warm and welcoming and Light was able to seat himself fully inside in a single thrust. He was also tight, despite the preparation, and Light had to still to stop himself from ruining this by climaxing right there in that moment.

“Oh,” L gasped, his lips parted. He stared up at Light; probably wanting to say something but Light was glad that he didn’t; the detective’s clever words would have probably been enough to tip him over the edge if he spoke.

He distracted himself with a simple and clinical consideration and gesture that he hoped would reassure L.

“Is there any pain?” he checked with L, who shook his head rapidly from side to side. “Okay.”

He began to move; drawing backwards slowly to thrust back in more firmly, gradually finding a rhythm that suited both of them. It felt so good, and the sensations were so new, that it was only a few minutes before L was shaking beneath him, eyes closing, gasping and panting his name; Kira.

As he felt the tension surround his cock as well, Light froze.

“Stop.”

L’s eyes snapped wide open, lips parting as he gasped, doing his best to obey. Light hadn’t been sure that he would; he had specifically told L not to hold back before, and it was rather cruel to change at the last moment like this, but he wasn’t done with the detective yet and he wanted to see how far L would obey.

Helping, he remained perfectly still, listening to their heavy breathing in the otherwise silent room.

“You will ask me for permission before you come,” Light commanded, half expecting L to protest or even call ‘broccoli’, but the detective swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, and nodded his head slowly.

“Yes, Kira,” he gasped out desperately. “As you command.”

The words sent a rush of heat through Light; he could barely hold back any more either, and began to move again, his thrusts uncontrolled, desperate.

“Kira,” L panted only a few short thrusts later, “Please, Kira, may I come?”

Light wanted to refuse again, just because he could, and he wanted to see how far L’s patience would go, but he was so very close as well and he didn’t want to ruin this moment.

“Yes,” he agreed, and L came with no stimulation at all to his cock, the fluid coating Light’s stomach. Light could no longer hold back either as L clenched around him, gasping as he came too, forcing his eyes to remain open so he didn’t miss a second of the sight of L coming apart beneath him, still holding tight to the bars of the headboard.

 

* * *

 

“Mello,” hours later, once Mello had returned with Ryuk, high on sugar and chocolate and Disney music, L approached him quietly. “I need to contact Near.”

“If I knew how to do that I would have done it already,” Mello grumbled, frowning at L.

“I don’t believe you,” L told him bluntly. “Near wouldn’t cut off all routes for you to contact him. You have a way, even if you don’t know it.”

“It’s final this time,” Mello denied. “He will have cut off all ties.”

“Do you have the number of his last burner phone?”

“Yes,” Mello shrugged. “But you know that’s pointless. Even if we hadn’t cut ties, he would have got rid of that straight away.”

“Still, I would like to try it.”

“Suit yourself,” Mello gave him the number. “You’re wasting your time.”

L didn’t waste time; he called the number, and it did ring.

“Hello?” a voice answered; not Near’s.

“It’s L. Pass the phone over. I won’t take no for an answer.”

A rustle. Voices in the background _. “He says it’s L.”_

L smiled, waiting for the phone to be passed across.

“Near.”

“I need to speak to you.”

“You’re speaking to me,” Near spoke childishly and without emotion.

“I’m not going to ask you to come back…”

“Good, you’re learning.”

“Near, I’m being serious.”

“Yes, I can tell.”

L huffed, “Shut up and listen for a second. I need your help.”

“Now I’m listening.”

“It’s about Light-Kira.”

“Ah,” Near acknowledged. “Yes, Mello was telling me he is killing again.”

“Not so much, not anymore,” L corrected. “He’s back on track now, but that is what I need to speak to you about.”

“You’re compromised, L.”

“Yes,” L admitted without concern. “I still believe I would try to stop him, if he tried to create a New World again, but the lines are blurring. I am not sure how far I would let him push; and the more time that passes, the less I am certain to resist.”

“You want to draw some clear boundaries?” Near clarified. “Some that I can enforce, if you find yourself unable to do so.”

“That’s about the long and short of it, yes.”

“Well then L,” Near sounded amused. “That is something we can both agree on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try not to hate L too much, he really thinks it's for the best... or, if you want to yell at him through me that's fine too. He's still an arsehole.
> 
> Also here's the thing. I can see this story is still getting readers. I mean, it does come up on the stats so that should reassure me that people are still enjoying right? Except, there's hardly any kudos, and this is the second part of a trilogy. I need to decide whether this continues, especially since I'm finding Second Place much harder to write, so... if you're still enjoying this fic, if you would like more, please hit that kudos button. It only takes a second, and it means the world. Thanks


	20. Declaration of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beyond Birthday has visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final chapter. If anyone has been doing what I did whilst writing this story, and putting on the Disney tunes they’re singing in the background, definitely bring up “My Lullaby-Male Version” – just google it, it’s on Youtube, for this chapter and stick it on loop when you get past the first page break line.
> 
> I will say more at the end, please try to read the end note as well, but first enjoy the chapter

“Light, if you learn my name today, what will you do with it?”

The pair were preparing for their visit to Beyond Birthday, the plane due to fly out at 5am.

Light frowned at L. He could hardly believe that L needed to ask that question, after all they had been through and with their relationship in the condition it was. If he had to ask, he was already having doubts. He considered his answer carefully – what would L believe? Was there any point in answering him honestly?

“Well, I would call you by it of course,” Light spoke cautiously, watching L’s reactions. “Make sure it was real, probably check it with a Shinigami.”

“And then?” even though the reason for the question was clear, L didn’t look all that concerned. Light considered that, at least, to be a positive.

“Well then, I would have to make sure I can spell it correctly.”

“And then?”

“What do you expect me to say, L? Even if I wanted to write it in the Death Note, telling you wouldn’t benefit me.”

“All the same, I would like an answer,” L demanded anyway.

“I’m not giving you one,” Light argued. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

 

* * *

 

Douglas Colby – the real Douglas Colby, very slightly thinner and much more haggard looking now that his brother had been arrested for murder – showed them down to the cell.

“Do you hear his voice too?” L asked by way of greeting. Douglas denied anything of the sort, but L still looked at him suspiciously, deciding that he would arrange a psychiatric profile for the man after they left that day.

When the door to the outer part of the Hannibal cage opened, they were assaulted by off key singing.

“I've been exiled, persecuted, left alone with no defence; when I think of what that brute did, I get a little…” Beyond trailed off, focusing on L and showing his teeth with a Shinigami-like grin, “…tense.”

“Hello Beyond,” L greeted him with a frown.

“I’ve been watching your little _video_ ,” Beyond purred, scrambling forward on all fours to the glass; passing the red line, though no alarm sounded. “Douglas, be a darling and put on my music, that’s a good boy.”

The door hadn’t closed behind them; Douglas was still with them in the cell. He flushed, but took a laptop computer from a well concealed cupboard in the wall on the ‘safe’ side of the Hannibal cage, opening it and turning it on; the video, Light’s face blurred out, showed Mello’s starring performance of the Lion King song.

“Naughty, B,” L scolded, frowning fully at Douglas now.

“Oh, let me have my fun, he’s going to die soon anyway,” Beyond grinned, ignoring Douglas’s horror.

“This is my favourite bit, look,” Beyond pointed to the computer screen; Douglas paused at the perfect moment to catch a look of disgust on L’s face; mostly hidden by his mask, but his jaw clenched tight, teeth gritted. “Weren’t you enjoying yourself, Law?”

Beside L, Light tensed, taking his eyes off the video to focus on the strange man; on all fours in front of the glass, it was almost believable to think he would scramble up it at any moment like a spider.

“I’ve been working on my own singing, you know,” Beyond grinned. Out of time and key with the music that still played in the background, he crooned, “But I dream a dream so pretty; that I don't feel so depressed. ‘Cause it soothes my inner kitty, and it helps me get some rest. The sound of L’s dying gasp! His Kira squealing in my grasp! Wammy’s children’s mournful cry! That's my lullaby!”

“You’re a terrible singer,” L confirmed, looking unaffected.

“Aww, don’t be a spoil sport,” Beyond laughed; a Shinigami laugh. “So are you.”

“I know,” L’s lips curled into a grin. “That’s why I spoke.”

“The melody of angry growls, a counter point of painful howls, a symphony of death…”

“We came to talk, B,” L interrupted as Beyond sprang back into his soliloquy. “About the DD murders.”

“Plan B didn’t work,” Beyond giggled, gesturing to the burned mess that remained of him. “So, I thought, why give up? Let’s move on to plan D.”

“Missing out C?”

“Cameron Colby. Plan C and plan D,” Beyond corrected.

“I presume that means you have a plan E and F, too?” L asked.

“No,” Beyond’s Shinigami grin was back. “I might just skip to plan K.”

Light shifted forwards, moving closer to the glass.

“I did say I wouldn’t talk unless he brought you,” Beyond spoke directly to him. “But he’s broken you, pet.”

“Has he?” Light asked; no, this was Kira now, his eyes blood red, posture perfect and dangerously composed.

“Yep,” Beyond giggled, moving back from the glass – backwards, still facing Light – and clambering up onto the table. “I saw you in the video. You _like_ him.”

“So do you,” Light accused with a smirk.

“Ah,” Beyond lifted a finger, “I like _to play_ with him.”

“There are things that aren’t caught on video,” Light informed him, studying his perfectly kept finger nails. “L isn’t your toy any more, B.”

B laughed; high and grotesque.

“You’re fucking _and_ you like him,” he scolded, sounding disgusted. “Does he have a leash for you?”

“L,” Light didn’t look away from Beyond; his voice was his Kira voice, leaving no room for argument. It was unplanned, it was a risk, but Kira did not doubt. He knew it would work. “Kneel.”

He caught the gasp from behind him; saw, reflected in the glass, the look of betrayal that crossed L’s face briefly.

“Did you plan this, sweetie?” Beyond crooned, giggling at Light as L hesitated. “I’m not convinced. It’s a good little act, but…”

L lowered down on to his knees, his hands crossing behind his back. Light could see how it pained him to do so, to give him this control in the company of others; in the company of B even more so. Beyond just giggled some more.

“Would you fuck him here to convince me?” he taunted Light. He leaned forwards; so far it was a wonder he didn’t topple off the table. “Could I join in?”

Light grinned. “L is mine now; his life belongs to me, as does his death.”

“I do not doubt it,” Beyond agreed, studying the detective’s expression for any dishonesty and finding none.

“I do not need his name, not anymore,” Light told Beyond, who had started to rock in place, metronomic; balls of his feet to heels. “I could be holding a knife to his throat and he would beg me to kill him, if I commanded it.”

“Hmm,” Beyond continued to study the detective. “L, is that true?”

L remained silent, glaring at Light as he maintained his pose on the floor, but not protesting and not speaking; not without Kira’s permission.

“Hmm,” Beyond tilted his head, his ear touching his shoulder. “If that were true, you could just _command_ L to tell you his name. Yes, yes that would be far more _interesting._ Why don’t you try it, Kira darling? I’ll tell you what, if L tells you his name – his _real_ name, I’ll answer honestly to five of your questions, and five of L’s.”

Light considered, then turned to L, walking to him and looking down on him. With his back to Beyond, he tried to look reassuring, but didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in L’s eyes when he softened his expression. Somewhat startled, he allowed the darkness to creep back in, fixing him with a dominating look that caused L’s lips to part just a little, inhaling deeply. Interesting. Was he just putting on an act, or was L actually enjoying this?

“L, you know the question?”

L nodded slowly.

“Would you tell me your name? Not for Beyond Birthday; not for the opportunity to question him. Tell Kira your name. Give me your submission.”

L’s breath came in little gasps; Light was sure if his jeans were not so baggy the additional evidence of his arousal would be only too obvious.

“L Lawliet,” L breathed, so softly that Beyond wouldn’t be able to hear. This was just for Kira, then. Light took in a breath, studying L’s eyes which were fixed on the floor at his feet.

“Again,” he demanded now. “Louder.”

“L Lawliet,” L told him again, his voice carrying through the room. “I never knew my full first name… I do not know if it is right… I’m sorry, Kira.”

Light nodded.

“You have done well,” he praised, turning back to Beyond, who was watching with wide eyes and a hand down the front of his trousers. He growled. “We are not here for your kinky sexual amusement.”

“Aww, come on, I never get to have any fun!” Beyond complained loudly, pulling his hand out of his baggy jeans.

“What is the exact spelling of the name you see for the man who calls himself L Lawliet?” Light demanded, his first question.

“L L-A-W-L-I-E-T,” Beyond spelled out.

“Good boy,” Light praised him as well. “Now, L will ask you his questions, and then we can play again. Have fun.”

L, freed from his kneeling by a single nod from Light, scrambled to his feet and back into his normal slouch, shoving his hands into his pockets with a huff as he moved to the glass.

“Kinky,” Beyond crooned at L as he approached; Light took to leaning near the computer, quietly requesting that Douglas change the music, taking some inspiration from Mello; he had him bring up the recently released internet sensation the llama song, a video that was on loop for twelve hours, and suggested that this was additionally to be set on repeat, with the laptop connected on charge. With Beyond in the far section of the cell, he would be unable to turn this off.

L ignored the music in the background, tense as he addressed B.

“My first question; in detail, what contact have you had with Near in any form?”

“Oooh,” Beyond giggled. “I wondered where the miniature sheep was – missing from the video. Heard he was working against you now.”

“Answer the question.”

“Boring,” Beyond grumbled, hopping down from the table and mimicking L’s pose perfectly, his voice changing to match the detective’s. “I’ve never spoken to him, never, nope, nada – not even with a puppet. Did you like my toys? Such sweet little stupid people. They’re so nice to play with… but they break so easily.”

“Don’t say that sort of thing with the L mask up,” L scolded, unimpressed.

“Scared?”

“It ruins the impression,” L told him.

“No, perhaps it should be like this instead?” Beyond dropped to his knees, hands behind his back; mimicking shallow, gasping breathing and a needy look; the silhouette matched perfectly.

“Get up,” L ordered. B giggled, looking to Kira.

“Come play with me, Kira,” he pleaded in L’s voice. “I _need_ you.”

Light tensed against the wall; there was something terribly tempting about the offer to the darker aspects of his psyche. If Beyond hadn’t been a mad serial killer, and just the L mask, the thought of both of them submitting to him like that…

No, he scolded himself. What had gotten into him lately?

“Get up, Beyond, you look ridiculous,” he told the crazy man instead. Beyond whined and sulked for a couple of minutes, crawling forward in what was probably meant to be a submissive gesture but just looked like his usual bizarre way of moving. When it didn’t get a further reaction from Light, he stood back up with a huff. “You have four more questions, L.”

L looked relieved; if he had needed to, all of his questions would have asked about Near. He didn’t really need the other four.

“What does plan K entail?”

“Well, I had thought if I told Kira your name he would just kill you and have done with it,” B told him. Light frowned. There was something more B wasn’t saying. He expected L to call him on it, but he didn’t. Curious.

“What other people have you got under your control and what are their matching commands to release them from your hypnotism?”

This started an expansive list; Beyond didn’t seem to even try to hold back. Many of the names weren’t even on L’s list of those who had come in to contact with B in prison. Light took notes in the background, the notebook a normal one but catching B’s eye for a second when he first took it out.

“What changes can be implemented to protect anyone from falling under your control again?”

Light had expected Beyond to be evasive here, but he was the opposite, detailing carefully several changes that would need to be arranged to the cell safe for his guards and anyone else who needed to work closely with him. Light could detect no deception in the plans, either.

“Who would you rather fuck, Kira or me?”

Light hadn’t expected the question, and startled, jolting away from the wall as if burned. Beyond burst out into his Shinigami laugh, scrambling on all fours up to the glass.

“Oh, you, L,” Beyond purred. “That way Kira would be the one fucking me, and we could both have a hand on the knife as we plunge it deep into your chest and see if you actually have a heart.”

“Thank you, B,” L grinned darkly; a perfect match to B’s Shinigami smile. A chill ran down Light’s spine even as new dark fantasies sprang into being in his mind.

“You never gave a time limit for when these questions were to be asked, so I shall be keeping mine for another day,” Light told Beyond.

“Crafty,” B hovered at the edge of the glass, waiting for something. Light turned to Douglas at the computer, gesturing for him to turn up the volume. Douglas did so, the llama song echoing loudly in the cavernous space.

“I’m sure you will appreciate it, at first,” Light grinned. “But after a while it will just send you mad… oh, well, too late for that.”

“Cruel,” L said the word like a compliment. Light pulled him close, kissing him firmly – making Beyond jealously huff from his cell.

 

* * *

 

 

Douglas left the cell with them, the key not clicking in the lock, for all the good that would do Beyond; he wouldn’t get out of his own half of the Hannibal cage, either. The llama song continued to play; Beyond was sure he wouldn’t be able to convince his next guard to turn it off any time soon, so he worked on making it into background noise, something he could ignore.

Slowly the door swung open again, as if by a breeze, and Beyond purred, singing softly to himself.

“The joy of vengeance… I can hear the cheering; Payback time is nearing, and then our flag will fly, against a blood-red sky!”

A figure stepped into the room; short, clothed in plain white pyjamas, messy white hair falling over grey eyes. He hit the pause button on the computer, plunging the room into silence.

“Beyond Birthday.” His childlike voice acknowledged. Beyond laughed; a loud, Shinigami laugh, his teeth bared. “Would you like to play a game?”

“Near…” in a sinister whisper, “That's my lullaby!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am cruel.  
> Cliffhanger.  
> This story is intended as part of a trilogy.  
> I have the third planned out, but I have a conundrum.  
> You see, part 1 got a lot more interest than part 2 - or at least, a lot more kudos. Kudos are like my life blood, they take a second to grant and mean a huge amount.  
> The third part of this trilogy is proving to be much, much harder to write, and I am currently experiencing writers block on it, I need a kick, some motivation. You can help with that. You see if I know people are likely to read it because they've enjoyed this one it will help me motivate myself to push through this block and focus on the sequel rather than my side projects.
> 
> I've set a target number in my head for when I will post the first chapter (which is written) of the sequel.
> 
> So I am humbly asking you, if you have at all enjoyed this story, please click that kudos button, and if you are especially generous, comments are even better, let me know what you think.


End file.
